My beautiful baby girl,
Today you are one. Twelve months, 365 days in this world and yet, it feels like only moments since I was sat in the peaceful birthing centre at Pinderfields Hospital with you (all 9lb4oz of you) in my arms, wrinkly, new and fresh. Today is your first birthday.
You are my second born. You are my last baby. Daddy and I feel like our family is complete so, with no younger brothers or sisters to follow you. Every milestone you have completed has been a last and I have been treasuring every moment. Not once have I said
“I can’t wait till she can sit up/talk/walk/eat.“
because I didn’t want to wish it away. I have experienced first hand with your brother how fast time goes so I wanted to soak it all up with you.
You know, even a year on from your birth, I sometimes pinch myself that I have you.
I always loved the idea of having a girl but after having Lucas I felt like I was probably going to be a Mummy to boys. That was fine, I was at peace with it. You know I adore being Mummy to Lucas as much as I love being Mummy to you. When I held you in my arms, I felt so grateful to have a kind, thoughtful well behaved son and now this potato head, chubby daughter to add to the family.
My goodness Spud, you’ve been a completely different kettle of fish!
Mostly easy going and chilled like your big brother but so much more unpredictable. In the first few months, I felt like I didn’t know you because what you liked and your routine changed so much! It settled down and whilst you are still fairly chilled, my darling daughter, you are feisty and sassy already!
I know you are going to test your Daddy and I’s parenting skills…even by the smirk on your face when you press the buttons on the Sky box as you look over your shoulder at us telling you “No!”. Do you know how many random, part recordings I have to delete daily because of you? Another favourite of yours is the buttons on the dishwasher, probably because they make a funny noise. Moving you away and distraction, that used to work with Lucas, doesn’t work with you. Even when it’s for your own safety, like standing up in the bath, you don’t listen and have face planted the water so many times so I have to fish you out! I have a feeling that keeping you in ‘Time Out’ will be a challenge as well.
Hopefully all these cheeky, stubborn traits will turn into a little girl with lots of personality!
This last week or so, in the run up to your birthday, you have been emotionally exhausting. You have become a mummy’s girl. If you can’t see me, you really don’t mind but if I’m around you want to me stuck to me. No offence love but you’re hardly dainty and petite, carrying you around all the time is building muscles in my left arm that I didn’t know I had. There are times when I can’t carry you, like if I’m cooking, and this is met with tears…lots of tears. It’s heartbreaking seeing those big droplets of water fall down your chubby cheeks but I suppose it’s part of you learning about life and it’s not physically possibly to carry you about all the time. I also don’t want to!
Despite your sass, shouting and clinginess, your smile lights up a room. Your giggle is the most adorable sound. I love our chats….which consist of you saying “Mama mama mama mama ma ma” whilst I make conversation. I adore your little pout and the way you cuddle up to your comforter when you go to sleep. You’re little grin when we pick your brother up from school is utterly adorable…and I even love your kisses, I just wish you’d shut your mouth when you do it. You can clap, cruise the furniture and crawl at speed. When you want to, you wave and say “Hiya”, “Mama”, “Dada” and “Cuh” (for Coco or Cat). You have four teeth, very little hair (hence why you are always mistaken for a boy) and a cute pudgy belly. You love your food, sleep through the night, wake up early and enjoy playing with other babies.
Sienna, you are the sweetest little girl and the missing piece to the Roversi family puzzle. I know you don’t understand but I hope you have the happiest first birthdays. Your Daddy, brother and I love you so much.