That I’m sorry that often I pay attention to the wrong things. I give more thought to the cleaning and household chores than I do to the little dancers performing routines to their audience in our back garden.
That I’m sorry I can’t keep my temper when they bicker; the one thing most likely to tip me over the edge.
That I’m striving to listen; really properly listen when they talk.
That I’m noticing the little moments on the fringes of our discussions and activities and using them to shower affection, cuddles and encouragement.
That motherhood is a constant learning curve for me…that some days I feel like a failure; that I have got it all completely wrong and other days when I feel I’ve done alright.
That they have made me a better person, that pieces of me have been chipped away for the better.
That I never realised that I could hold enough love for three little souls…that I would feel like my heart fills and breaks hundreds of times each day.
That I want them to listen to their hearts, trust their instincts and be brave enough to stand out from the crowd. That they are not defined by the people around them.
That I don’t want them to grow up too quickly, that despite their feelings of being denied certain things…I want them to have something to look forward to in their next stage. I want them to remain little girls while they still can. That the mirage of the next thing is just that.
Most of all that, despite all the nagging about picking up clothes, practising times tables and cleaning their teeth; that the things I truly value for them are not any of these.
That the true value is in love, generosity, kindness and courage.
To be feminine yet strong.
To be free.
To have hope.