For Meggy on your 10th birthday
Meggy,
It feels like two minutes ago I was sat here writing your ninth birthday letter and yet here we are, ten. A whole decade of our little wild one and what a rollercoaster ten years it has been. Every year on your birthday I scroll back through the endless photos I have of you over the years, from that sleepy little baby hooked up to scary looking machines to that chunky little toddler who would kiss you one minute and kick you the next. There has never been another child quite like you, I’m not sure there ever will.
Last year I sat here and wrote that eight had been my favourite year with you yet but what I didn’t realise was that nine would be even better. At nine years old you were the kindest, most loving, most creative little girl and every single day has been filled with the very best adventures. Whether you were performing yet another gymnastics show in the garden or illustrating your next book, making bracelets for your best friends at school or getting messy in the garden, you find happiness in every single moment and that’s such a wonderful quality to have.
Although you cherish your role as my baby girl, your imagination and your wisdom is that of someone ten times your age. At parents evening this year your teacher told us your written work was of the standard she would expect from an established author and I honestly thought my heart might burst with pride. At the same time she told us you were so kind, always polite and a caring friend to those around you, and those are the things which will always matter the most.
The thing about you Megs is that all you ever want is to feel loved and I hope you know that we have given you that in abundance. Nothing makes you happier than when I climb into your bed at night and snuggle up with you, or perhaps even more so when Eva allows you to do the same. You love for me to tell you how special you are to us and your little face lights up every time that we do, even if you’re hearing it for the thousandth time that day. And in turn you are the most loving child to me and Daddy, to your siblings, to “mini kids” you seem to adopt on every playground, to the infants at school where you cherish your role in PALS, and even to your dolls who you are the perfect Mummy to daily.
Not a single day passes when you’re not dragging Eva into the garden to play with you, forcing Harry to play a game of your choice or pleading with me when Lewis can babysit you next. You adore your Grandad more than I could ever put into words, and at nine years old you would tell us repeatedly that there is no other man you’re going to marry but him. You just love your family so much Megs, with the same intensity you feel each of your emotions. I have never known a child feel love so strongly, or express it quite so perfectly, and on our very darkest days your love shines a light so bright it’s impossible not to feel happy.
Nine was filled with more adventures than I can ever list from kicking off your ninth birthday in Greece to starting our Summer down in France. Just like your Mama you thrive under the warmth of the sun Meggy and you seem to blossom in front of my eyes when there is a beach to play on, a pool to swim in and adventures to be had. You loved every moment of learning the French language down in the Vendee, of eating chocolate croissants for breakfast each morning and watching the sunset together each night. You were obsessed with picking out your outfit each day, begging Eva to twin with you “Just one last time!”, and you’d twirl every new dress until you went dizzy and admire yourself in every window we passed.
Nine saw us take a family holiday to Turkey and you almost burst with excitement when you found out Lewis was coming too, pleading with him to sit next to you on the plane and play with you in the pool each day. At nine you tried parasailing for the very first time and Lew and I were convinced you’d have a meltdown and scream the beach down but instead you absolutely loved it and insisted it wasn’t even scary at all. You were desperate to take part in the dance show at kids club and even when Eva refused you got up there and performed anyway in front of a whole theatre full of strangers. At nine you were so eager to do everything and try everything and I loved that about you Meggy, and you made me want to do the same.
Nine saw us visit Milan where you completely fell in love with Italy all over again and seemed to grow up in front of my eyes in the space of a week. You let go of my hand a little more, held your head a little higher, asked way more questions and became more inquisitive about the things which previously wouldn’t have even been on your radar. You enthused about every single gelato, even if it was your third one that day, and raved about every carbonara as though it was your first time tasting such a dish. You constantly asked how many days we had left, never wanting our time away to end.
At nine we spent the best week together on Lake Garda where you smiled from morning until night and told me it may well be your favourite place of all time. You rode the biggest, scariest rollercoasters without a moments hesitation, played in the fountains in every pretty town we visited, lit candles in every cathedral for Joseph and agonised over which souvenirs to bring back home for your friends. You have never been happier than speeding along the waves on Lake Garda, captaining the boat with a wicked glint in your eye as you pushed it into top gear and laughing at my panic. You loved that locals would say “Ciao bella!” every time you walked past and you’d whisper to Eva, “They’re saying that because they think we’re beautiful.” And you’d be right.
At nine we headed back to Finland and you adored reuniting with Jana and Elisabeth, giving them the biggest hugs and never leaving their side for the whole time we were there. You loved foraging for mushrooms in the forests, trying your first wild blueberries, eating brown bear, moose and even reindeer. You loved having a daily sauna, eating fresh white sour dough bread with salted butter, taking the tram and swimming outdoor by moonlight; you loved returning to a country which had completely stolen all our hearts.
At nine we surprised you with a trip to Lapland, “Real Lapland!”, where you embraced every bit of magic and created even more of your own. You fell in love with the huskies and the reindeers, made snow angels and went sledging, drank warm blueberry juice by an open fire. You met Father Christmas and I honestly thought you were going to cry with happiness, your little face lighting up when he told you he knew your elf – Cheeky Steve. You squeezed my hand so tightly afterwards and told me you are the luckiest girl in the whole world to have had so many adventures like this one. Nine saw you unwaveringly believe in the magic of Christmas, I can’t imagine a day when you will not.
At nine you visited Derry where you had the most action packed week walking alpacas in the torrential rain, zip-lining through the trees, climbing the Giant’s Causeway and taking in the sights of Derry. You were delighted to learn about the old cannon rescued from the war, the “Raging Meg” and you laughed hysterically and told us “That was definitely named after me when I get angry!”. You loved being outside, even on the most bitter cold days, although you loved getting your pyjamas on each night and sleeping in the “tent bed” with your torch lighting up your face as you and Eva told spooky tales.
At nine you learned how to ski and I was so proud of you Megs because you mastered it, even though I’d had my doubts. You were fast and you were fearless, whizzing down the hardest slopes and laughing each time you took a tumble. You loved the freedom of the mountains, the feel of the sun on your face and the wind in your hair; you loved our afternoon snack of Nestles chocolate crunch before saying “Right, time to go again!”. You loved every single thing about that week Megs, be that skiing up on the mountains, ice skating at the olympic park or snowmobiling at sunset. It was the first holiday I thought you might cry when it was time to leave and yet instead you bravely told us, “We can’t be sad because at least it means we get to see Oscar”.
And with all of those adventures it feels only right that you are celebrating your tenth birthday, your first with double figures, right here in Thailand on a holiday you have dreamed of for such a long time. This morning we surprised you with a visit to the elephant sanctuary where you got to cuddle an elephant for the very first time, feed them, bathe with them and fall in love with them completely. You ate fried chicken noodles for breakfast, blew out the candles on a birthday cake made especially got you by the loveliest Thai ladies, and returned to the hotel room to discover it had been decorated just for you. It was the most special day, for the most special girl, and I hope when you are as old as I am you look back on your tenth birthday and remember being the luckiest little girl in all the world.
I have loved every minute of you being nine Megs, a year you were so creative and kind, so brave and intuitive, a year you embraced both the ordinary and the extraordinary with exactly the same fervour. I have loved hearing each of your stories and sharing all of your dreams, seeing your friendships blossom and your interests grow, knowing that you have never been happier or more fulfilled than you are here and now turning ten.
Happy 10th birthday to our cartwheeling little wild one. Here’s to another year filled with adventures, so much love, and a billion and one outfit changes.
We love you all the stars in the sky,
Mummy
xxxxx
