For Eva on your 11th birthday
Eva,
It doesn’t feel like two minutes have passed since I sat here last year, tears streaming down my face as I typed out your birthday letter. In fact it feels like no time at all since you were placed in my arms, after all of those years spent waiting, and you looked into my eyes and pieced the broken fragments of my heart back together. From that very first day you were so special to all of us, my first daughter, the first granddaughter, the first sister, the first little rainbow to remind us why we never gave up hope and you have shone so brightly for every second of every day since.
And now you are eleven, our beautiful little Eva not quite so little anymore.
I know I say this every year, and I want nothing more than to be able to say this for every year of your life, but this last year has truly been my absolute favourite with you. Ten saw such huge changes for you finally coming out of your shell, finding your confidence, your voice, your own interests and style. I have loved every minute of seeing you grow, both in stature and as a person, and I am bursting with pride at the kind, loving, funny young girl you have become with your razor sharp with and your perfectly timed comebacks. Everything about you is so beautifully understated and I love that about you Eva, you are modest through and through, and although sometimes I wish you would shout a little louder about how wonderful you are, I think it is the most wonderful quality to have.
One of the things I love and admire the most about you Eva is your sense of adventure, both in every day life and on our many travels together. And at ten years old your year was absolutely full of them. Whether you were running around the park or jetting off for a sun-filled break, you embraced every single moment of that time – the first to get your wellies on and be out of the door, the fastest to find a “good stick” or be up a tree, the quickest to jump in the pool and the very last to be out of it at the end of the day. As wonderful as our adventures were in the year you were ten, I enjoyed them infinitely more because you were right there beside me.
Ten was the year we travelled around Normandy, taking the ferry over from Dover and sitting in the longest tailback of traffic whilst you moaned non-stop that you may die of starvation. Ten was the year we stayed in an ancient converted nunnery with paintings of creepy babies on the wall, and you and Harry were so spooked out that the three of us all squeezed into one squeaky single bed and I slept the whole night with one eye open. The year we visited the most incredible attractions that Normandy had to offer and your favourite thing would always be a random stray dog you had come across in the street, the year you tried just about every French dish on the menu and would attempt to bribe Harry to try even the smallest nibble, “Harry if you try even one crumb I’ll buy you a Nintendo game!”. Ten was the year when macarons still made you happier than anything else in this world and deciding which flavour to buy was the biggest decision you’d ever face.
Ten was the year you fell in love with Finland, a country you felt so at home in with their laid back attitude and love of the outdoors. The year you embraced Finnish sauna, enduring the most smouldering heat and then amazing us all as you jumped feet first into the sea in -5 temperatures without even flinching. Ten was the year you made snowmen on Suomenlinna, raced your bike through the streets of Helsinki and chatted so confidently with our hosts that there were times when I would watch from a distance and wonder who had taken our shy little girl and replaced her with this sophisticated young lady.
Ten was the Spring we spent in Crete, heading back to one of our favourite places where your days were spent swimming, eating ice creams and talking about what you would choose when the next buffet serving came around. The year the three of you went skinny dipping in our villa, throwing off your swimsuits without a single moment of self-consciousness, and swam until the sun set, shouting, “I feel so free!!!” as you laughed until your sides hurt. Ten was the year we watched the sun go down at the harbour in Chania, ate Moussaka by the sea, jumped waves, made up silly songs, wore friendship bracelets until they were merely hanging on by just a thread. The year you called me your “Roomy for life”, snuggled up to me at bedtime and my heart would hurt a little wondering for how many more years I would get the privilege of holding you at night.
Ten was the year you were obsessed with football, when you gained so much confidence playing for your team, scored your very first goal and celebrated with a straight face as though nothing at all momentous had even happened. The year you and Meggy were hooked to the Women’s Euros, where we watched every match either on the television or at the stadium, where you’d wave your flag and blow your horn and your face would erupt into a smile every time that we scored. Ten was the year you were chosen as a mascot to escort the England football team out onto the pitch and it was one of the proudest moments of both our lives so far. Even typing this now brings a lump to my throat remembering how my once shy little girl had strode out onto the pitch with your head held high and shot me a cheeky little smile when you saw me crying at the sidelines.
Ten was the year we started our Summer in the Vendee, taking an epic road trip in the blistering heatwave where we spent our days whizzing down water slides and ziplines, visiting beautiful chateau’s, swimming in the sea and moaning it was way too hot. The year we ate Thai food in La Rochelle wrapped in our beach towels with sand still between our toes, followed the giant elephant through the streets of Nantes and squealed with delight when it drenched you with its trunk; the year we visited Puy du Fou and you almost exploded with happiness when you were chosen to have the bird land on your head. Ten was the year your face was deadpan 99% of the time, the year we would ask you if you were truly happy and you would reply, “Yes of course, this is just my face!”.
Ten was the year we spent a week in Turkey, the six of us altogether for the first time in so long, the year you spent your mornings at football camp and your afternoons basking in the pool. Ten was the year you’d disappear to the bar and come back with three kids cocktails, a pancake, two ice creams and a plate of chips, and how you’d sit under the parasol like a lady of leisure and devour every last mouthful in blissful silence. Ten was the year you tried parasailing for the very first time without a single moment of fear, where you snorkelled around the islands, collected shells on the beach and kitted yourself out in every fake football kit going. Ten was the year when your greatest pleasure was annoying Lewis, the year he announced he had changed your name from Eva to “Evil” and you had thrown your head back and laughed and simply rubbed your hands together with glee.
Ten was the year we spent August in Italy, starting our adventures in Milan where you soaked up every moment of city life. The year you lit candles for Joseph in every cathedral, squeezing my hand so tightly like you just knew; the year you discovered bacon and cheese loaded fries at Italian Mcdonalds, tried every flavour of gelato imaginable, asked questions and took an interest and told me that when you are all grown up we will spend our weekends visiting every city across Europe, just you, me and our dogs.
Ten was the year we discovered Lake Garda, spending our days on the lake, speeding through the waves, your hair blowing in the wind as you took the role as Captain. The year we rode rollercoasters and triple loop the loops, when I’d look over at you at the highest point and you wouldn’t even be breaking a sweat, the only indicator of your excitement that glint in your eyes; the year you’d slurp spaghetti and drink San Pellegrino, when you’d be on the go from morning until night and be fast asleep the minute your head even touched the pillow.
Ten was the year we spent the Autumn back in Finland, when you returned with such confidence, marching your way around Helsinki as though you knew it like the back of your hand. The year we missed the tram and walked the whole way back to our apartment singing a silly song we had made up about reindeers, the year you ate cheesecake for breakfast every single morning washed down with a cup of tea. Ten was the year when our Autumn days were spent outdoors, no matter where we were or whatever the weather, the year a fluffy headband was your favourite accessory and when your daily outfit was an agonising decision.
Ten was the year we visited Lapland, where you fell in love with every single husky, every reindeer, every elf. The year you shrieked with excitement as we raced through the forest on a sleigh and lay sprawled in the snow as the huskies flocked to lick you from head to toe at the end of it. Ten was the year we called you Eva DoLittle, when every animal, no matter what kind, would flock to you like they just knew you had the kindest heart and all the love in the world to show them some kindness. Ten was the year you met Father Christmas in his cabin and you believed, with every single fibre of your being, that he was the real deal; the year I blinked back tears of happiness the entire week for knowing we had kept the Christmas magic alive for so long.
Ten was the year we visited Northern Ireland where your dreams came true when we walked alpacas in the hills of Donegal, made our very own pottery which you meticulously painted, did zip lining and tree top treks, went bowling where you spent the entire time changing our names on the computer screen to things like “Rat boy”, “Stinky Meggy” and “Eva is the winner”. The year we visited the Giant’s Causeway and you were the only one brave enough to climb right to the highest point with me to take a selfie, where we had the best conversations as we wandered around the streets of Derry, where I’d make a silly joke to Daddy which should have gone way above your head and you’d let out a muffled giggle because you got it, because you’d already thought it too.
Ten was the year when every single one of these adventures just wouldn’t have been the same without your siblings beside you, when you’d reluctantly admit that Meggy was your best friend in the whole wide world, when you’d casually throw an arm around Harry, rush to greet Lewis at the door when he came back from his dads, when you’d audibly let out a cheer when I’d say the four of you were all coming to the same place. Ten was the year I’d hear you and Meggy whispering long after bedtime, when you and Harry would sit head to head discussing tactics for Minecraft, when you’d disappear into Lewis’s room to cause some mischief and emerge eating a chocolate orange. The year you’d spend hours training Oscar to high five or do magic tricks, the year I’d find you both snuggled up in your bed with his head on your pillow and you’d tell me the only boy you’ll ever love is him. Ten was the year you were the luckiest girl there ever was to be living your very best life with your very best friends beside you.
Ten was the year you were brave and courageous, curious and imaginative, kind and intuitive; the year you truly embraced every single moment of your childhood before it runs away from you. The year you had the most pure and special friendships, when you wanted nothing more than to be a wildlife photographer when you grow up, when you still stood by the fact your spirit animal was a sloth and preferred animals to humans in any given circumstance. You’re a one off that’s for sure Eva and whilst I don’t really have the words to sum up how proud I am of you, as you turn eleven with the prospect of high school and so many changes ahead, I can only hope that the coming year will be every bit as wonderful as you deserve it to be.
Happy 11th Birthday Eva Sienna, here’s to another year of adventures, talking about sloths, drinking cups of tea and counting down until your next meal.
We love you all the stars in the sky,
Mummy
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