Two weeks two days since officially becoming your mum

It may be two weeks and two days since I officially became your Ma, but it's a work in progress...

I mean by that I'm still very much learning the intricacies of being a parent and co-ordinating that with being me, the immature, lazy, selfish, imperfect thing that I can be. Of course, parenting requires one to 'park' oneself, you hear people talk about it and you see people doing it – friends and family. Come the moment to do that yourself, it's surprising to see in what ways you exceed your own expectations and in what ways you fail miserably. I had yet another food related hurdle yesterday and don't think I handled it particularly well. The toddler handbook tells me that your tantrums and outbursts are merely because you love us so much and are so dependent on us, it is precisely us you need to assert your independence from, hence tantrums. So, I should be flattered that you care enough. I shall chant that mantra next time a challenging moment presents itself... you love me, you love me, you love me so much you're throwing everything on the floor and bucking like a wild horse...

Anyway, it's fine, I am learning to deal with these things as much as you are learning how to deal with your own emotions. We'll meet in the middle.

The last couple of weeks, since the court ruling, have been good because somehow we feel more settled with you, now we know there will be no more questions and no more intrusions; essentially that no-one can take you away. Did I mention your Life Story Book that E, your social worker, gave us for you? It's great. It covers everything from birth family, to birth itself, to foster family, to us, with blank pages for the future. It's nice that the book so far is only the beginning of the story, of the book itself, that there is space for continuation. You are after all, not even two yet. Quite a story you have already, that you're blissfully unaware of.

When I got home from work today, you were so unbelievably over excited to see me, it almost made me want to weep. It was the most amazing welcome home I have ever had, though most of your welcomes are pretty good. You chanted – mummy, mummy, mummy – and you clutched me and buried your head in my shoulder and laughed and pushed your face against mine. Wow. I should go out more often.