No one follows their heart quite like a toddler.
So I let her wear the bright tutu with the gumboots and mismatched sweater.
I let her jump in the puddle, and maybe slightly cringe at the mud knowing I’ll never get round to cleaning the car.
I let her pick up her food with her hands, feel it between her fingers and feel thankful we have a dog on standby to clean up the mess.
I let her climb into bed with me at night. She wants to be close to mummy and while the pain of broken sleep lingers, the pain of her distance one day will be worse.
I let her smile and wave to anybody and everybody when we are out together. She’s so kind and one day she will learn that the world isn’t always. I’ll have to explain that soon enough, but for now, her world is perfect.
I let her say “mummy”, for the 100th time. The word that makes my heart melt and clench all at once on the hardest of days. The word that will one day soon become, “Mum”.
I let her sing in the backseat, the same song 100 times. Yes, I would love to listen to my own music, but the sound of her voice is the only music that’s ever made me truly feel.
I let her drag me into her room to play. I can’t always, but I know the things on my list will find me again tomorrow, and again the next day. These moments won’t.
I let her point to all the little things on our walks, they take so much longer these days, but I see so much more because of her.
So I let her wear the bright tutu with the gumboots and mismatched sweater.
I let her be little.
I let her remind me what it means to truly follow your heart.
So that one day, if she needs it, I can remind her.