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I Love You, Daddy!

I Love You, Daddy!


(Obviously this is mummy writing, as Max is only 11 months old, but I have written it as how I imagine his perspective is.)


I may not have the power of speech quite yet daddy, but words can’t do justice as to how much I love you.

Mummy sees it every single day. Day in, day out, she watches us and sees our dynamic developing, and falls in love with us both all over again.

You know, even when I was a tiny little spud in mamas belly, I knew you. Your mellow voice, in such stark contrast with my mamas screeching Brummie tones (soz mummy!)…

Me having a doze in mummy’s tummy!

You’d enter the room and all you’d have to do was say hello to mummy to send me crazy. I’d thrash around that tiny dark space, so excited to hear you, anticipating your ginormous hands gently stroking the space around me, pressing on me to show me that you were there, from the very first second that I gained sentience.

And then I was born, in a rush of panicked voices, squarking machines, a sterile theatre with the medical blue gowns and shiny silver stuff reflecting all those bright lights into my sensitive new eyes.

Me meeting mummy for the first time after daddy held me first – mummy demanded her turn!

You were the first arms I ever lay in, the first eyes I ever stared into, the first finger I ever grasped whilst they sewed up poor mummy’s guts. I’d never seen you before, but as soon as you said “hello”, I knew you, and knew that I love you.

You helped mummy feed me when she was desperately struggling giving me booby, you held me place so that I could latch properly, and made sure that she didn’t nod off feeding me.

You stayed up all night with me when she was hideously poorly with that evil infection, even through you suffer with ME (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome).

You let her rest and gave her cuddles when she was tearing her hair out not knowing whether she was up or down, left or right. Post natal depression isn’t very nice, is it daddy? But you were there, unrelenting and uncomplaining. You grew up surrounded by these awful issues, and the last thing mama ever wanted was to be a repeat of history. But you understood and never once buckled. You love my mama so unconditionally, and you keep her going when sometimes she feels like giving up.

You give such lovely warm snuggles, daddy.

And then I learned how to play – you taught me peekaboo! Remember all those hours with the muslin cloth? I’d lie on your lap and we’d giggle for hours on end. I still love playing peekaboo with you, daddy. I can’t wait for you to teach me how to play tennis!

In the morning, I love it when mama comes and gets me from my room. But your face, YOUR FACE is what really excites me! The second I hear the floor creaking upstairs signifying that you’re awake, I just want to dance and jump and squeal with happiness because it means DADDY IS COMING! I sit and wait at the foot of the stairs (damn you stairgates!!!!!!), pulling at the gate like my life depends on it, shouting for you. And then you appear, scooping me up into your arms for cuddles and tickles!

Me watching you come down the stairs!

It makes me sad when you have to leave for work, daddy. I cry at the door for you, until mama distracts me with food and games and mama snuggles because I love her too. But I love us more as a three. I love our family trips to see nanny and grandad, swimming, shopping… everything we do as a family, I have so much fun!

Don’t go, daddy!

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