Wow! You are one year old. I am so proud and thankful to have you as my wee boy. Your giggle is a sound I treasure and your smile touches my heart.
You have come such a long way in a year from my quiet little man to an inquisitive wee boy. You have left my arms to discover new worlds at nursery. At the moment you are still more of a home bird and prefer to be with me or your dad and the hurty, hurty, hurty feeling that I first experienced with your big brother is ignited every time I have to leave you.
You just love playing ball at the moment and get excited every time you see one.
You enjoy stories and can sit contentedly listening for a long time. You also love it when Scott engages with you and your face lights up when he approaches.
You are the muckiest wee pup I have ever met! You make such a mess with your food and seem to revel in making a mess; whether it be emptying a box or a drawer, or smearing food across your hair.
I have loved pushing you in the pram this past year and you have been my best running buddy ever.
I know I haven’t always been the best mum to you this past year, but I have been the best that I could. I know that you fit perfectly into our family and I cannot imagine you not being here. You were always meant to be my wee boy and I look forward to what your next year brings.
To my Second Child
You’re not my first; that much is true.
I loved another before loving you.
I’m a different mother this time around.
More calm and confident I’ve found.
With your brother, everything was new.
I was focused on his every move.
Each tiny smile was photographed.
I changed my ringtone to his laugh.
Since you came, there’s a new dimension.
Two children now want my attention.
And sometimes you’re left in your chair,
Whilst I play with your brother over there.
I cannot watch your every move.
Or, when you cry out, jump to soothe.
I don’t panic every time you sneeze,
And dash you off to A & E.
Your rattles and teds are hand-me-downs,
(And some toys may have lost their sounds.)
There’s less concern if your blanket’s scratchy,
And your baby book is a little patchy.
I know what the next months have in store.
And each phase you reach, I’ve seen before.
This doesn’t mean I love you less.
This time the feeling’s more complex.
I’m pleased to see you learn and grow,
But it also pulls my heartstrings so.
I was so excited first time round.
This time I want to slow things down.
Your ‘firsts’ will all be ‘lasts’ for me.
Last crawl and last to ride my knee.
Last nappy, breastfeed, spoon of mush.
Last rock-to-sleep, last cry to hush.
You were not my firstborn this is true,
But the last child I will have is you.
You’re the last lullaby I’ll ever sing.
And ‘lasts’ are a special kind of thing.
Emma Robinson 2015
Happy first birthday Lukester xxx