My little girl adores her older brother.
I mean she A D O R E S him.
When I dress her in the morning and I have a sweet, girlie outfit all laid out for her, she hugs me tightly then pulls back and says: “it’s very nice mummy, but I want to look like Daniel” and so once again she leaves the house in jeans and trainers.
The last time she cut her hair (yes, there have been more than one hair cutting incident) and I implore “Mia, why would you do that honey?” she says with heartbreaking honesty: “I just want to look like Daniel.”
Every morning, as soon as she opens her eyes and realises it’s morning, she trots into her brother’s bedroom, climbs into bed with him and they sit there side by side.
He’s usually playing on his Nintendo DS or drawing or writing a letter.
She lies there next to him, head resting on his arm, watching intently, lovingly at whatever it is he is occupying himself with.
It is a joy to watch.
Sure they argue and fight and tease one another. But even those times are loaded with love.
I’m sure it’s every parent’s silent prayer that as their children grow they will remain close and become the best of friends in adulthood.
It doesn’t always turn out that way and there is no way of controlling what happens at they jump headlong into their teens and start to go their seperate ways.
All I can do it lay the foundations, show them that the love of a sibling is a wonderful thing to cherish and keep my fingers crossed.
But at the moment I couldn’t be more proud of the way they interact.
Daniel is already an excellent confidence booster for her.
As they were playing in his room one morning, she came bursting into our room all gushing and excitable – and quite bizarrely for 9am, wearing a pair of sunglasses and a denim jacket.
They had been playing dress up and as she was strutting her stuff, Daniel said to her: “You are such a groovy chick, Mia!”
Her head swelling and keen to tell mummy that Dan’s thinks she’s the bee’s knees, she bursts in and announces: “Mummy, mummy, Daniel thinks I’m a groovy chicken!”