Feeling left out

Dear P,

It seems lately I've mostly blogged to and/or about your big sister. Being the youngest is tough. E will always do stuff first, memorably, and without you. But you're always there. Always gorgeous.

You're still the image of your sister at this age, but definitely your own person. She was chilled, you're even more so. Such a happy wee thing. Loads of smiles, giggles and peacefulness.

Your pukiness has lessened - I don't think it was dairy related! But you do still catch me unawares...usually when in a back carry in the sling, or just as we're about to go out! You've also mastered the art of the explodapoo! A talent not every baby possesses I'm sure!! It came in very handy on our recent camping trip. Days were sunny, nights were cold. You and I shared a sleeping bag - and you wore a million layers as well. I don't think you ever felt the cold, but just to be sure, you pooed. Covering yourself from neck to ankles. Every night. Being a mum is so glamorous!

So there we are. I found something to write to you. A post about your bodily emissions! Sorry Baby girl. I love you little one,
Mummy x

Wedding bells...

Dear E,

You've been a bridesmaid twice now, and you're not even three. Here's hoping "always a bridesmaid, never a bride" isn't true for you. Mind you that would save me from having to write Daddy's speech....!

Anyway, recently at a family wedding, we were driving from the church to the reception when your little voice piped up from the back. The conversation went a little like this :

E : When's our wedding?
M : We're not having a wedding.
E : When I'm big can we have one?
M : When you're big, if you find a nice man that you love, you can have a wedding darling.
E : I choose Daddy to be a man. I love Daddy.

Cue conversation about Daddy being already married to Mummy and you can't marry him, but how lovely it is that you love him. All went quiet for a while, we started a different conversation in the front, and then your little voice piped up again :
"I want a lady when I'm bigger....not a man."

We did giggle. All we want is for you to be happy little bear.

Love,
Mummy x

A sad day.

Dear girls,

You probably won't remember yesterday, but it was a sad day. Our lovely big black cat, Chewy, was found dead. Run over on the busy road outside. We're very sad. He was about 6 years old, a rescue cat. The biggest, craziest, sweetest cat you could wish for. He was named Chewy as he made a noise like a Wookie on the first night we had him. Chewbacca....Chewy.

He caught all kinds of animals - voles, shrews, mice, birds, rats and even squirrels. Very generous, and always laid out on the dining room floor. Thanks Chew! I know it's cos he loved us, but it was horrid to get up in the morning and find a dead beastie there!

He also ate anything and everything. Nothing was safe in the kitchen unless shut in a cupboard,and it seems the neighbours' kitchens weren't safe either! He often came home with chunks of cheese, or pork chops, or similar....I've never worked out where he stole it from!

P, you won't remember our gorgeous boy, but E might. You made me laugh, little E, when we told you about his passing. I tried to use it as a bit of a road safety lesson, so after we'd ascertained that he'd gone crash bang with a car and he was hurt, you wanted to know if he'd gone in an ambulance to hospital. We explained that cats didn't go to hospital, and told you'd he'd gone to Heaven and wouldn't be coming back. You asked how he'd got to Heaven and who had taken him from our house.....I thought fast, and told you that if you go to Heaven, you just go - no-one takes you. So you made me smile by saying, "I hope he went on the pavement, Mummy."

Rest in peace Chewy cat. Go chase squirrels to your heart's content. We all miss you, especially your fiercest adversary, Monkey.