To Michael, on his first birthday

Dearest, most gorgeous Michael,

You are one!

I have been thinking so much about what you have brought to my life over the last twelve months, and above all, you have taught me how to be grateful.

Your miraculous, brave and warrior-like spirit reminds me every day that we must live in the moment, and always appreciate the smallest victories.

Because you, my darling, are victorious. In every single way.

You are also, heart-stoppingly good looking. And charming. Right now, you have a particular gift with the older women. Everywhere we go, you flash those baby blues at old ladies and they practically fall on top of you so they can squidge your cheeks. You lap it up.

You and your brother have a bond that is ever evolving. This week, you are challenging Matthew at every turn. No longer a (literal) pushover, whenever he tries to shove you out of the way you have been shoving back. Quietly.

This is the biggest difference between you and your brother.

Whereas Matthew heralds his arrival with the tappety-tap-tap of dancing feet and high pitched squeals, you are stealthy. And fast. Even though you refuse to master the front crawl, you manage to shuffle, on your bum, distances that amaze me. Last night, I took my eye off you for a second and you had made it to the stairs to investigate the epic thuds (Matthew and Daddy playing hide and seek) going on above you. It is the stealth of a navy seal.

You are a Mammy’s boy. And even though I hope you’ll stay that way, I know you won’t. I know, that a year from now, your Daddy will be the apple of your eye, and like your brother, you will be emulating absolutely everything that he does, and following him from room to room like a little duckling.

So, self-indulgently,  I am allowing myself to enjoy this time. When I am the centre of your world, and when you go to sleep with your little hot hand wrapped around mine, and your breath on my chest. I treasure it, as I treasure every moment I have with you.

My gift to you on this, your first of birthdays is release.

Michael, your past is your past. You have moved mountains to show the world how strong and vibrant you are, so I am releasing you from the bonds of mother who has stared at you with fear every time you sneezed over the last twelve months. And I accept, and embrace your health and wellbeing.

I love you so much. I am changed, so much for the better, since you chose me to be your mother, and I am so grateful. Thank you. xxx

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About Ciara McDonnell

Ouch My Fanny Hurts was born in the late stages of my first pregnancy. I was sick and tired of everyone going on and ON about how brilliant it is to be pregnant, when actually, lots of it was quite crap really. And, my fanny hurt a lot. So, I decided to tell the truth about my experience while I was pregnant, and the journey I have been on since, as our little fella grew a little bigger, and we brought our second son into the world in what turned out to be fairly scary circumstances. It’s my story, and I am delighted to share it.
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5 Responses to To Michael, on his first birthday

  1. Jill says:

    Squeezing a hot little 11.5month old hand as I read. Gorgeous!

    Psst, we’re Irish mammies, the daddy worship is a passing fad, our boys will be mad for us forever.

  2. labellemama says:

    Ciara, this is lovely x

  3. Joanna says:

    I am going to have to stop reading your posts, I’m just overwhelmed. So, so beautiful. What lucky little boys to have such an articulate and strong mother.

  4. Joanna says:

    ……not to mention heart-stoppingly good looking!!!!!!!!!

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