Orla: We don’t sit on walls do we Mummy? It’s too dangerous.

Me: *nods sagely* Yes that’s right.

Orla: Actually I don’t mean walls, I mean wolves.

Orla turned three earlier this month can you believe it? She is a proper little person now – not my baby to sweep up in my arms and smother with kisses, not a toddler that can be bribed with snacks or strapped into a car seat with brute force if need be but a fully formed human being. It’s such a bitter-sweet feeling. Overnight her drawings went from scribbles to figurative scribbles with eyes, ears and smiles – I’ve kept her first drawing of me and stuck it up on the wall. We’re currently working on not starting every sentence with the words ‘I want…’ but otherwise conversations are frequently hilarious. The other day she was in the bathroom and called out to me ‘Mummy come and see this trick’ and when I peered around the door she (very solemnly and with great stage presence) lowered herself down into the toilet bowl. I’m going to start writing down more of her funny observations and turns of phrase – I always think I’ll remember them but of course they just slip away. This is Orla’s last year before starting school and it makes my chest ache a little just to type that – this little window of childhood is so small and I hope I’ve done it justice.

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