Eve is 8: the birthday blog!

My youngest child is eight!! How can that be? Nearly three thousand days on this planet?? As I come to grips with this let me share with you some of the things I want to always remember about her at this age:

-        She has a crush.  She wouldn’t tell me for ages who it was but Ollie knew and was sworn to secrecy which is super cute.  Plus I knew pretty early on anyway thanks to her writing his name all around the place with love hearts around it.

-        She makes this makes this weird cat noise – like a hissing meow.  It’s sometimes accompanied by a strange claw like gesture and usually when she doesn’t like something that you’ve done.  Everyone who has ever heard it agrees that it’s REALLY annoying.  Conversely she has a high pitched squeak like a guinea pig when she is happy about something.  Basically she is just a small animal. 

-        She’s pretty brainy.  At the end of grade one she was proud to get five A’s on her report card.  The other night she heard a TV ad where they said “Bloody sensational” and proudly declared “that’s a noun group”.

-        She loves to sing and is doing junior choir this year so she likes to proudly declare that she is the best singer in the house.  I’m not saying she isn’t, but she definitely hits some rather creative notes sometimes. She also rocks some pretty sassy moves during her choir performances.

-        Like her big brother she always has her nose in a book.  Lately she has discovered that Ollie’s extensive library of books is now available to her and she is pretty blown away.

-        She joined her first team sport, netball. She’s made a bunch of new friends from other schools.  I’m not expecting to be scouted by the Firebirds anytime soon but she has a great time and is learning the value of being a team player.

-        First thing most mornings Farmer Eve will go down to make sure the guinea pigs and ducks have been fed and will herd them around to be sure that they all get their equal share.

-        She cuts pieces of paper into teeny tiny little scraps which she loves to just leave around the house wherever she fancies.

-        She loves her friends.  She is lucky to have a lot of wonderful friends in her life who she likes to tell us about in minute detail.  But she gets into knots about BFFs and “unfriending”.  It gives me a terrifying insight into what the teen years are going to be like.

-        Her room is a disaster.  She stuffs things into drawers, cupboards, boxes, under things and on top of things.  She keeps the most bizarre stuff and won’t throw out the millions of pieces of paper that she draws on.  I have to embark on covert cleaning missions when she isn’t around just to keep in manageable.

-        She loves the trampoline.  We’ve gone net free this year and it’s become her happy place and her first port of call when she gets home.  Sometimes she just hangs out on it with a guinea pig, and other times she can be seen smashing out bouncing tricks and jumping with a skipping rope.

-        Tantrums are still a thing.  Every year I think she will grow out of them.  Every year she proves me wrong.  They aren’t as frequent as they once were, but every now and again there will an issue that she deems significant enough to make her lose her shit.  And when she has finished lashing out, with the tears are starting to dry on her freckly cheeks as I hold her in my arms and keep her calm, she will tell me that she is sorry and that she doesn’t mean to get so upset, she just gets so frustrated.

-        She wants to share a room with someone.  Every single night she whinges, complains and cries that it isn’t fair that Nick and I get to share a room when she has to sleep alone.  She loves the nights when we put her mattress on Ollie’s floor for a sleepover.  The nights that we don’t often see her walking the length of the house to sneak into our room in the wee hours where she stands at the end of the bed creepily with her hair down like something from The Ring.

-        She still hates having her hair brushed.  I dreamed of having this little girl who would let me put crazy braids and ribbons in her hair. Instead I’ve ended up with the child who will scream like she’s been scalded with boiling water if I even look in her direction while holding a hairbrush.

-        Her love of a good foot rub rivals mine.  She oh so casually puts her feet up on Nick until he gives in and rubs one.  Then when he is done, she’ll put the other one up for more.

-        She sure can talk.  The drive home from school can be one steady stream of chatter with her barely coming up for a breath. 

-        She is the most loving creature I’ve ever encountered.  She cries when others are upset.  Her kindness knows no limits.  If you’re hurt she will rush to help you.  If you’re unwell she will make you lie down and take care of you. 

-        Those freckles.  She added at least 87.2 new freckles this last year.  All of them are on her gorgeous face.  Strangely, none of them are anywhere else on her.  But they make up such an important part of who she is and she looks super scrumptious with them. 

Snuggles

You, my youngest child are now eight.  You’ve been outside of my body for eight whole years.  But it seems like moments ago that you were in my tummy, gently wriggling and rolling inside me while Ollie would drive cars over my belly. I knew you would be my last baby so I savoured every single moment of you.  That sweet milky smell of yours.  Your silky soft baby skin.  I could have sat with you sleeping on me for hours, watching your breath rise and fall in your chest.  I didn’t rush you into a sleep routine, or to sit, stand or crawl like I might have with your brother.  I wanted you to be my little baby girl forever and every milestone passed was bittersweet as it meant the last for me.  The last first smile.  The last first steps.  The last first day of school. 

The years have rushed past too quickly and you are no longer a baby.  I know I have rocked you to sleep in my arms while singing you a lullaby for the last time.  Never again will I wash your bottles or sippy cups.  Never again will we go to the library and sing nursery rhymes together.  But I know that  I can’t slow down the years.  I have been given the greatest gift to have all of these last firsts with you.  As I proudly watch you turning into a beautiful young lady, I know that you will always be my baby. 

You are my last.  There won’t be another and I couldn’t have asked for a better first last.

x

Here is a photo of the snuggliest girl from each month of the past year.