Even now writing this l’m so tired, having chased after you, meeting your “needs” all day long, from the minute you opened your eyes and called out your first “mama” of the day, to the moment I prepared your breakfast or fixed you up to leave the house to playing with you on the slides by the seaside whilst asking you (well even begging you if telling the truth is what we are doing here) not to go in the water “cause you’re gonna get wet”, negotiating sweetly with you throughout the day and letting out sudden abrupt shouts when you do something borderline dangerous and naughty such as today’s big jump in the water I eventually watch you take despite my persistent requests (quite unsure of what I’m actually angry with by that point: you getting wet or that I’ve just lost yet another negotiation battle to a 2-year-old: aka “the only people that you somehow subconsciously magically cave in to”), yet the ENTIRE effort, the whole exhaustion, the back and arm aches, the policing, the negotiating, the losing, the winning, the whining, the repeating, the constant look-out, the “brains-in-the-blender” dizzy feeling, the messy part (tears and noise kinda mess or literal mess – legos and unicorn surprises in my bed, your books replacing mine on my night-stand and the “what’s my comb doing in your toys?” kinda mess), the continuous wiping of dirty little mouths and fingers (and tables and tiles!) – basically bittersweet chaos and the juggle of it: oh it’s all quickly proven soooo worthwhile when the minute you go to sleep, all your papa and I talk about is you, remembering your witty words and giggles, missing already your hugs, your singing and smiles, while the silence in the house only serves to quieten our minds giving our bursting hearts a chance to realise that the long and the short of it is so: we are crazy crazy in love with you for you are our most precious and most gracious achievement and our most humbling and glorious journey of all!