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Letter to Lulu: Eighteen months old

Fat Mum Slim /

letter to lulu

Dear Luella,

I don’t know where this time has gone. I really don’t. I blinked and you’re 18 months old.

I’m not going to talk about wanting a pause button, about wanting to stop time, because that’s all I seem to talk and think about. And it’s just not going to come true.

Instead I’m going to tell you what an awesome kid you are. If there was a measure of awesome, you’d break the scale. You are just awesome.

You’re happy for the most part, until you’re not. But more about that in a moment. You wake up far too early, and from the moment you wake you’re excited to be alive. “Yay!” you’ll sometimes exclaim from in your cot as soon as you wake.

When I come home from doing the groceries, you’ll see me bringing bag after bag of food stuff and you think it’s Christmas. The small stuff gets you excited.

I can already tell that you’ve got a beautiful heart. One of your favourite things to do is to carry around a sweet baby doll and wrap her in a blanket. You’ll then walk around patting her, and ssshing her so that she’ll go to sleep.

We had a family dinner over the weekend, and my cousin who hadn’t seen you in a while said, “She’s full of personality, isn’t she? She doesn’t stop! She’s so cheeky.”

And that’s you. You don’t stop. If there’s a table, you’ll climb it. It’s there’s an open toilet, you’ll wash your hands in it. If the pantry is left open, you’ll empty it. If there’s a stray pen, you’ll draw with it… on whatever you feel like drawing on. You just don’t stop.

Your tantrums are something else. You’ll go from happy to NOT happy in seconds, and the scream is ear-piercing. In public strangers get startled, and old people get cranky. I just get embarrassed.

You’ve learnt from your sister. Lacey needs me to witness EVERYTHING she does. “Mum, look at me skip. Mum, watch me brush my hair. Mum, watch me open the door. Mum, watch me breathe.”

And so now you do the same, “MUM!” you’ll call, just so that you can see me watching you… doing nothing. “Mum! Mum! Mum! Mum! Mum!”

You’re the cutest kid I’ve ever met. I swear I’m raising a genius. You’re smart, and cute, and funny. Dadda and I just look at you and then at each other and remark, “She’s so FREAKING cute!”

Because you are.

Can we press pause now?


Mama. xx