I Hope You Know I Love You...

Dear my beautiful girl

Today you've been a handful. You've fought with your brother. You've tried let your guinea pigs escape. You've screamed over Netflix and laughed in my face when I told you off. I hate telling you off. But I have to. Someone has to. Someone has to say "no!" and "share!" and "STOP IT". Someone has to put you on the naughty step. Or take away your favourite teddy. Someone has to make reward charts. And that someone? Is me. 

You told me earlier in a fit of tears that you wish "I loved you more". But my dear girl I hope you understand I couldn't love you anymore than I do. The reasons that I countdown from five. Or moan when poke your brother. Or snap when you are climbing on the dog. Again. Is because I care. Because I adore you. Because I want you to be the best you you can possibly be.

I more than anything wish I was always there at your beckon call. Reading when you wanted me to. And not washing up. Always willing to watch Peppa with you. And not tidying up Lego. Saying "OK!" to every chocolate bar and every time you begged to stay up late? I wish I could say "yes!" and then let you pop into my bed and snuggle up for the rest of the evening. Eating fruit pastilles till 2am. But? I can't. 

Daddy's there to throw you in the air. Nanny's there to give you the odd sneaky Frozen chocolate bar after lunch. But Mummy's there to do the tough life lessons. And I hope one day you will read this and know how very hard it is. And how sometimes it broke my heart. 

I want you to grow up kind. I want you to know that sharing is nice. And that your brother will eventually be the best friend you will ever have. That compassion is needed when looking after animals. And unfortunately my love as much as I wish it wasn't true. You can't have everything in life go your way. This is a lesson I wish that I didn't have to teach you. One that I didn't have to make you learn at such a young age. 

In the future you will have your own little girl and you will understand that the love you feel for her is all consuming and at times overwhelming. You will moan and ask how I coped with handling a small petulant child. I will point you in the direction of this letter. And sneakily get a box of smarties out my bag. Then give it to my granddaughter with a wink and a smile. Happy that this time round it's not my life lesson to teach anymore. 

Yours forever and always

Mummy (aka The Bad Cop

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