FIRST DAY: our little schoolgirl

On Monday Phiney started school. She literally hopped, skipped and jumped her way through the doors and I left beaming with pride for our baby girl. No tears were shed by either of us (at least I didn't until Ben sent me the sweetest, kindest text message about being an ace Mama an hour later!) and she bounded out at the end of the morning with just as much enthusiasm, exclaiming how she couldn't wait to go back on Tuesday.

We had a little wobble on the walk to school yesterday (which disappeared as soon as we stepped inside the gates) and on our way home today she asked if she had to go in every day, but I think she's just so tired. It's an exhausting thing this starting school stuff, and this afternoon she mostly led on the sofa watching Tangled. Typically she also has a stinking cold (after two months away from pre-school and not a single sniffle!) which isn't helping matters. I think Friday and two days off will pretty welcome.

I know Phiney will love school - she just has a desire to learn and find out more about the world around her - I'm sure she's always had it. Always so many questions and, so brilliantly, always so much understanding. Mostly though, we're just so happy for Josephine. So happy that she's happy, and so proud of her.

We love you so much Phiney! xxx

JOSEPHINE: september 2016

Tomorrow Josephine starts school. I can hardly believe that this time has come already, those four and a half years zipped by so quickly. Our baby has turned into the most wonderful girl - so funny and serious and laid back and stubborn and clever and silly and kind and sensitive. She has an unbeatable imagination and wants to learn and discover and understand as much about the world as she can. And she's so excited about starting school. About making new friends and learning how to write, and about playing in the playground and with the pretend shop in her classroom; about wearing her school uniform and her beautiful new school shoes.

We're all about to embark on a new adventure. And tonight I feel sad that the first part of our journey together is coming to an end - those carefree days, where I have Phiney by my side almost 24/7. Where we know everything about her little life. But I'm also so excited. Education is such a gift, and one Josephine will appreciate every second of. She is so ready for this next step and I can't wait to see what it will bring. What she'll love and the questions she'll ask. Her new little school is awesome, and I'm so sure she'll thrive there.

Our beautiful Josephine, We're so proud of you darling. What a brilliant little woman you are, and what a brilliant adventure awaits you xxxx

I snapped these on holiday in Scotland and I just adore them of her. Our beautiful girl, inside and out xx

MOTHER'S DAY

I had a lovely day yesterday, getting spoilt by my little family, and then heading out to dinner with my Mum, Nan and the rest of the famalam.

My day started with a lie-in, then pancakes with Nutella and strawberries, before we headed out for a walk in the beautiful March sunshine. Josephine and I were jumping about and being silly when Ben snapped most of these photos. I love them. What the Motherhood Captured project is all about.

I've wanted to be a Mama ever since I was a little girl, and looking at my babies now, I can't believe how lucky I am. They are the sweetest, fiercest, funniest, most beautiful and brilliant girls a Mama could ask for, and I am so proud to be their Mama. It's a crazy journey, motherhood. And even when you've only had two hours sleep, your clothes (and face!) are covered in mud and mushed banana, the house is a mess and your children are shouting at each other or you, or nothing in particular, I wouldn't change a single thing. It is the hardest, but best job in the world. And the smiles, laughter, cuddles, kisses and 'I love yous' make it all worth it.

Josephine and Coralie, my darling girls. I love you more than you can ever imagine. You make me the happiest Mama in town.

And Ben, you make me the happiest wife. Thank you for being the best Daddy and my partner in crime. And for my basket and YesMum cards!  

I love the photo Josephine took of Ben and I too. So awesome that she's big enough to hand the camera to and snap away now :)

DEAR CORALIE...

Sweet girl, my how you've changed since last year. You've grown so much and have become even more of a lovely little person to have around. You're funny and kind, and laid back and stubborn; you're interested and confident and so so happy. And you're completely bonkers! An absolute joy to be around. Just like your Grandpa, who you still look so like. Sometimes it's like he's looking right at me, and I love that, and I love you more for it.

Of course this year has been full of milestones for you; you've learnt to walk and talk and run and scoot and you mastered the climbing frame and slide at the park a few months ago too. You're so close to jumping and you love to run around shouting 'yeah, yeah, yeah!' when you're told it's food time, bath time or time to head out. Your excitement about the smallest thing, the happiness you find in most everyday task, is a lesson to us all.

It's wonderful to see you and Josephine play so happily together these days too. Whether it's playing Mamas or Barbies, doing puzzles, building the train track or running around outside, you're never far from Phiney's side, trying to do everything she does. I love listening to you both singing and chatting via the monitor before you go to sleep and when you wake in the morning. I hope you always chat away like that.

One of your most favourite things (aside from eating!) is dancing and singing. I'm pretty sure these will feature greatly in your future. Your dance moves are hard to beat, and you sure know how to shake that booty of yours. Especially when you're in front of the mirror. You love watching yourself, and find yourself completely hilarious.

You are such a sociable little thing too. Always chatting away to anyone and everyone, and a real cuddle monster; no baby is safe from your squeezes! And when Phiney gets upset, or Mama and Daddy have been poorly, you're the first to offer up cuddles and kisses and check we're all ok. Such kindness.

I truly can't wait to see how you blossom over the next 12 months. To hear you talk more and more and see your personality emerge further still. I have a feeling you're just going to get more awesome. If that's even possible!

I am so proud of you, so proud to be your Mama.
I love you xxx

Photographs taken on Christmas morning, and some of my favourite ever of Coralie. I just can't get over her in that 1950s dress. What a find...what an absolute cutie!

WEARING: Vintage dress // La Coqueta tights // Startrite shoes

DEAR JOSEPHINE...

Here we are, another year older already - I hardly know where the time has gone. You've grown and changed so much since my last letter, and have so many new experiences under your belt.

You started dance classes at the beginning of the year and pre-school after Easter, and you've blossomed incredibly. A little shy, and easily overwhelmed by large groups of people, you need a little time to climatise, but you always do quickly and happily and are playing and laughing and chatting in no time. And everyone at nursery thinks you're the bee's knees. You make us so proud. It's taken me a while to work out it's best to just leave you to it and stand back, or be there for plenty of cuddles, gently encouraging you to join in only after a few minutes. Thank you for being so patient and letting me figure it all out; how best to parent you, how best to be your Mama.

You have a hard job being the eldest my little love; I should know - and Daddy too - as the eldest ourselves. We talk often about remembering to not put pressure on you and expect more from you than we should. You are so clever and bright and switched on that I think sometimes we forget how little you are. And you help Coralie out so much, teaching her and guiding her without anyone having to say a word. You are a wonderful big sister Josephine.

The last year has seen your relationship with Coralie change so much, and it is lovely to watch. You now play so happily together (most of the time...I understand how frustrating it must be to get that puzzle ruined AGAIN after you spent so long carefully fitting together the pieces) and to watch you giggle and laugh and conspire melts my heart. A beautiful friendship is being forged and you're both so lucky to have that.

Right now you love all things fairies and elves and unicorns, Barbies and babies, and also cars, jumping, bike riding, running and the time you get just you and Daddy up at the allotment; what a special place that is for you both, and what fun you'll have next year there too. So proud of your matching wellies and hoodies, when you set off with your hair tied up and your backpack on, ready to work.

I love that you're the only dancer to clap the other ballerinas as they cutesy after each class every Friday, and how you were beside yourself with excitement when we visited Moorland Rd and I told you there were seven charity shops there. Your Mama's daughter, for sure.

You dance so beautifully Josephine, I well up at least once every dance class. Coralie and I sit entranced week after week. And I love our ritual of visiting the library straight after to return and pick out two books. You always know exactly what you want or don't want, and there's no persuading you. Reading with you is the best; always so many questions about little details on the page, hidden in the pictures. You notice the smallest things - don't ever stop. Your Grandpa once told me to 'always look up, because you could be missing so much' - and I think of that often. I don't think I'll have to remind you, but I'll be sure to pass on that wisdom as you grow.

You make your Grandpa so proud, of that I'm sure. Boy, he would have loved to have been around to hang out with you; to have seen you as Mary in your nativity a few weeks ago and take to the stage so naturally, singing and doing the actions. To see you fly round the track on your bike and to see the amazing outfits you concoct from the dressing up box and emerge from your bedroom wearing. To hear the downright insane stories you make up, before throwing your head back with a pretty evil sounding laugh. He would have thought you're completely mad, and completely brilliant. And your living life so completely and enthusiastically is a reminder for me of how we all should, like your Grandpa did too - and I thank you for that darling.

Next year will be another huge one for you - in September you start school! I can hardly believe it, nor do I want to! We've completed your application and I will now happily forget all about you being away from me for the majority of the day, five days a week, until April when we find out which school you got into. We plan to fill the summer with adventures and send you off with brilliant stories of crazy escapades and daring exploits of your time by the sea and up in the Scottish Highlands. Your first time on a plane too...you're so excited!

I suppose I could offer this advice or that prediction, but all I want to say Josephine is - continue being you. Because you're awesome. Goofy and beautiful. Kind and funny. Stubborn and serious. The most wonderful creature. And even when you don't listen and test my patience to it's extremes, I still think you're wonderful. I am in awe of you, always.

I am so proud of you, so proud to be your Mama.
I love you xxx

WISHES

Josephine collected little stones to throw into the lake at Dryham Park last week, and told me she was making wishes as they hit the water. Wishes for holidays and cake and sunshine; and a wish that she could see her Grandpa.

I love that he is in her thoughts always, and at the same time my heart breaks for her and all that she should have done with him but never got the chance, and for how much she misses him.

My sweet girl. Your Grandpa would be so proud of you and I have no doubt that, wherever he is now, he wishes he could see you too.

And then she wished for an apple. I love her!

^^^

To my girls, today was a sad day; a year since your Grandpa's funeral. That was a strange day; a day for tears but also a day to laugh and talk to your Grandpa's friends and colleagues, some who knew Grandpa when he was a little boy, all about what a wonderful man he was.

I wanted to stand up and say something that day. To tell all those people what an awesome Daddy he was, how brilliant a Grandpa he was, and how he filled our lives with so much happiness and fun.

I'm sure by the time you are big enough to read this, you'll know the stories I recounted that day, some of my favourite stories, off by heart. I hope you do. But in case you ever want to read all about your Grandpa and I'm not there to tell you, this is for you.

It's so sad to read about all the things we didn't get to do, and about how much darker the world is without your Grandpa here, but remember to always think of the silly games and funny things Grandpa said, and would say, and you'll be laughing in no time. It's what he would have wanted, I know that for sure.

I love you my darlings.
Love Mama xxx

A few weeks before Christmas, I spoke to Dad on Skype, as we did so often while he was away, and I asked him if he'd had any more adventures on his new motorbike. Of course, he had, riding along beautiful stretches of Australian coastline. It was on one such adventure that he'd stopped at a biker cafe he'd passed. He pulled up on his Norton, complete with turn up jeans and his old leather jacket with vintage patches, took off his helmet to reveal his quiff, and was met with sniggers and shouting from the group of Hell's Angels that had taken over the bar. Remembering headlines of gang violence, armed robbery and curfews linked to this group, Dad stood, encircled, knowing that these Hell's Angels were the real deal, and wondering which way this was going to go.

So he did what he did best, and he cracked a joke.

And after a silent pause, the whole group burst into laughter and welcomed him with open arms into the bar.

That was Dad. No matter where he was in the world, no matter what the situation or the type of people, that was my Dad. He bought a smile to the face of everyone he met, burly Hell's Angels included, and was always, instantly loved by them all. It was this charm that once allowed us to leave a restaurant in Prague without paying, because Dad had forgotten his wallet. Dad's smile and way with words had the restaurant manager won over in minutes and he was happy for us to go back the next day. That was more than ten years ago, and every restaurant visit since resulted in Dad pretending to forget his wallet. And we always laughed; every time.

Over the last few weeks, my brother, sister and I have received such lovely emails from friends and colleagues of Dad's all over the world, and every single one of them talks about the laughter he bought to their lives; the light he bought to the world.

We all have so much to learn from the life Dad led. He was an inspiration; to me and to so many others. He seized every opportunity to experience new adventures and learn something different. He worked hard and lived every day to the full. And he did it all with a smile. Like so many of you, it's that smile I will always remember. It brightened every day I got to see it; it has brightened the darkest moments of the last month, and I know that it will brighten the tough times that are yet to come. Every day, we should all strive to bring the same happiness to someone, that my Dad did; to follow in his footsteps and make the world a better place in his honour.

Dad's job meant that we could go for long periods of time without seeing him. In the last few years alone he'd spent many months working in Australia and Germany, but our time together was always the more special because of that. In just a few hours together, we'd have more fun and more laughs than other people would have in weeks. No-one has a Dad like us. And I am so proud to be able to call him my Daddy. Prouder today, than ever.

And no-one has a Grandpa like Tyler, Coby and Josephine. Before Dad started work in Australia last summer Josephine and I spent so many lovely days hanging out with Dad, in the garden, in the sunshine. I will never forget the fun those two had, the laughter and the adoration. Skyping with Dad and Josephine involved raspberry blowing sessions that lasted 15 minutes and whole conversations with him wearing his bike helmet and goggles because Josephine had asked him to put on his 'motorbike hat', which he loved and happily agreed to. In the last few months Dad and I had spoken so much about plans for this year. We should have had so many more days together. More time for Josephine to have adventures with her Grandpa, more time for him to meet our new Baby. But they will always know him. They will know all our favourite stories about him by heart, they will know his beautiful face, and I know he will be watching over them, forever.

For as long as I can remember, I've been told that my Dad was a legend. Whenever we visited film sets, Dad's colleagues would be jostling to tell us how awesome he was, which we all knew, of course. Charlie said last week how people just flocked to Dad; wanting to be in his presence, to share a piece of his happiness. So many of Dad's idols died too young; James Dean, Eddie Cochran and Buddy Holly. They had so much more to give; they left people wanting more. Just like Dad. There should have been so many more years of fun to come; he had so much more joy to spread. But he joins the best of them, nestled with the coolest of the cool; our Dad, a true legend.

Our beautiful Daddy was taken from us far too soon, but no-one could have picked a more magical place in the world to go. Classic Dad. The last few years have been amazing for him. Dora has said how he died on such a high. Working with amazing people on huge film projects, travelling the world, moving into a beautiful new home and meeting his love, Dee.

My last conversation with Dad was on Christmas Eve, two days before he died. As soon as his face popped up onto the screen, I knew how happy he was to have Dee with him. You could see it in his eyes. He looked relaxed and blissful. They opened our Christmas present and he entertained Josephine by wearing a Christmas hat and fashioning a Father Christmas beard from some tissue paper. We all shared so many laughs. Dad talked about the Christmas Day BBQ on the beach they had planned and got Ben's advice on cooking Christmas pudding on it. He was so happy. So happy to have his love beside him, and we are so grateful that he did. So grateful to Dee for making his last days some of the best he ever had; that she loved him with all her heart and that she filled his heart with so much happiness; that she was there to hold his hand as he went. You will always be part of our family Dee, as Dad intended, and we all love you, as he did, so much.

My Papa, my Daddio. It's hard to find the words to tell you how much you meant to us, how much you will always mean to us. You are my hero and I promise to make you proud every single day. To live life to the fullest and to be happy. There should be no goodbyes today. I know you'll always be with me, with us all, guiding us and protecting us. And that someday we'll all be laughing together again. Until that day, I love you, and I will miss you, forever and always.

DEAR CORALIE...

Your first Christmas! I don't think you really have a clue what's going on, but I'm pretty sure you already love it. The flashing lights on the tree have you hypnotised and you've loved Father Christmas at both our Christmas trips this week. And with Josephine jumping around, it's hard for you not to become just as hyper!

As I sit writing this letter, and thinking of you, I can't help but think of our tiny baby. A head full of black hair, so little and helpless. But you've grown so much, and it's so crazy to think you're already 7 and a half months. A light brown Mohawk has replaced that black hair, and your chubby cheeks are evidence of your love of food (yoghurt and broccoli especially). You sit so confidently, and launch yourself forward to grasp the toys just out of reach. No desire to crawl, it seems, happy to just sit at the moment. You're talking more and more in that little language of yours, but you exclaim 'hello Dada' whenever you see him, and have the sweetest wave to accompany it. I'm hoping 'Mama' will come soon...

Your arrival in May turned a truly awful time into the most beautiful. When your Grandpa died, it was knowing that you were growing in my tummy, relying on me to help you get stronger and bigger, that kept me eating and sleeping and marching on. And as Josephine helped me smile during the day, it was you moving and kicking inside me, that kept me from breaking in the night. In those dark, quiet hours, when the tears would come, I contemplated growing new life while dealing with death. You look so much like your Grandpa my darling. From the moment you were born, and wow! Sometimes it takes my breath away. It's like he's looking back at me again, when I look at you. I love that you share that connection with him. You may have never met, but that connection is so strong, and it's a beautiful thing.

You gave me so much strength Coralie, and I'm so thankful for that.

It's strange to think of a time before your arrival, you have so happily slotted into our little family. Adored by us all, our little one. You are such a good natured girl. Today you are poorly, with the snottiest nose and heavy eyes. You've been ill for a couple of days now, so we're hoping it will have passed by Christmas, but despite unsettled nights and a horrid cough, you are still so happy. Happy to sit and play, happy to watch the world go by, happy to still eat every last mouthful of every meal.

But boy, do you make yourself heard when you think you're being ignored. Your shriek could smash glass, and it certainly attracts a lot of attention when we're in the supermarket. I can't help but laugh! And you're as impatient as your sister (and your Mama and Daddy!) too. Milk can't come fast enough when I lie you down to feed.

It's been such a wonderful experience breast feeding you sweet girl. I have to thank you for giving me the opportunity to walk that journey, and find some closure on the disappointment of my milk stopping when Josephine was tiny. I will write more about our breastfeeding story, but I have loved every moment so far, and I look forward to many more months of feeding you.

Coralie, you were born into the water, and you are so happy whenever you're back there. Tears melt away when I put you in the bath. You're happy to have your face splashed and hair washed and get drenched by Josephine. A couple of water babies, you two.

Every day we go for a walk, and you crane your neck to observe this crazy world. Watching the birds and the trees, the cars drive by, smiling at all the old ladies in the village who can't help but peer into the pram and talk to you.

You pull us right in for proper cuddles and give the most delicious open-mouth kisses (often soaking us in the process with ridiculous amounts of drool!) And you do this hilarious foot clap whenever you have bare feet. It's brilliant and so entertaining. I never want to forget that excitable little foot clap!

When I write to you next Christmas, you will have grown so much. You'll be walking and talking and we'll know so much more about you, about the person you've become. It's crazy to think of the change these next 12 months will bring in you, and I plan to soak up every minute and to do a better job at recording all those special moments, those big milestones and the magic in the everyday. Naughty Mama for being a bit rubbish this year. I promise I'll do better :)

Our tiny girl, what joy and light you have bought to our lives at such a dark time. Our sweet little creature. You are so wonderful. Happy first Christmas Coralie Joe, and may 2015 be simply wonderful.

I am so proud of you; so proud to be your Mama.

I love you xx

DEAR JOSEPHINE...

This seems a fitting way to end the year; to write you and Coralie each a letter. I think this will be the beginning of a new tradition for me. A place to reflect on how much you've grown and on all the wonderful things you've done this year. And the end of 2014 seems to be a good time to start such a tradition, it being the biggest year of both our lives in so many ways.

The beginning of this year was so hard my darling, so so hard. When your beautiful Grandpa died on December 27, 2013, our hearts broke. You weren't even two, yet you sensed something was wrong, that something had changed forever. I'm sure in the years to come we'll talk about those first days, and this first year, after Grandpa left this world. You'd never seen me cry before and yet you weren't scared or worried, just sweet and concerned and so kind. Always so kind.

I will forever be thankful for your kindness, my darling girl. And one day, when you're older, I'll thank you properly. Because I will carry the words you asked me, and still ask me, almost everyday in my heart always. 'How you feeling, Mama?' Never prompted or forced, always genuine and quiet and soft. And always followed with the biggest cuddles, kisses and 'Love you, Mama.'

We talk about Grandpa everyday, happy memories of fun times you two shared, and stories of the fun I had with him before you were born, when I was small. I know we'll talk about him always, and it heals my heart to do so; with you especially. You two had a special bond that was only going to grow into the most wonderful friendship. I think my Daddy had found his calling being your Grandpa; it was a role he took to so easily. And, after missing out on spending so much time with him when I was small, I was so excited to be able to be part of the relationship you two would have. It is the saddest thing that you won't get to share those adventures, make stories of your own together, play and laugh like I thought you would; like you should have. I cry about that so often.

We talk right now about how Grandpa is in a very special place, a wonderful happy place, but a place where we can't go. That he will always hear us if we want to talk to him; he will always catch the kisses we blow to him, and that when we look at the stars and the moon, we should take comfort in the knowledge that he is looking down on all of us, and that he will always protect you.

And keep singing this little song, like you do right now. I will always sing it with you, whenever we see the moon. And I know you'll teach it to Coralie as she grows.

“I see the moon, the moon sees me. The moon sees the somebody I long to see.

I love the moon, the moon loves me. The moon loves the somebody I long to see.”

Of course, 2014 has also bought us the most wonderful gift. Your little sister. Oh, how you love her! While my tummy got bigger and bigger, you were so excited to get ever closer to meeting your new little brother or sister; helping me sort the baby clothes was one of your favourite past times, and we must have gone through those tiny pieces nearly every day. You were sure she was a boy, and when you came in to meet her, and I told you she was a girl, for a moment I could see the disappointment in your face. Then Coralie sighed and she reached out her little hand, and I saw you fall in love. In that tiny moment, I saw the awe in your eyes. It is a moment I will remember forever.

Always wanting to hold her, cuddle her, kiss her. Your 'little one', your 'darling'. You are the best big sister Josephine, and Coralie adores you. It's clear to us all. You can make her chuckle like no-one else and her eyes light up the moment she sees you. They have from that very first meeting.

You have grown so much this year Phiney. In every way. You're so big and strong and you love doing your press ups, when Daddy does his. You can run so fast and so far, and you have energy that is boundless.

You speak beautifully. And say the most wonderful, hilarious, clever, honest things. I write them down on a piece of paper in the kitchen draw and will record them here, in our journal, one day soon. Daddy and I don't ever want to forget them.

Every night we put your bottle in your bed, with one of your 'guys' pretending to drink it, for you to find when you get out of the bath. You laugh every time.

I think, if I let you, you'd eat a whole punnit of cherry tomatoes or a whole packet of malt loaf every day.

You ask when we're going on holiday again at least five times a week. I think beside the sea, on the beach is your favourite place in the world. And I think you'd happily invite your best friend, Oliver, to live forever in your bedroom so you two can always play games. You talk about him constantly.

Our beautiful Josephine, you are the most spirited little girl. You're stubborn and strong-willed, yet kind and generous and thoughtful and so sweet. And you're completely crackers, which I adore. My little fruitcake.

Yes, this year has been such a big one for you. And you've handled it all magnificently my darling. What wonderful adventures await you next year. What lessons you have to learn, and what lessons you will teach me along the way.

Merry Christmas little one, and may the New Year bring you only the most magical and happy of times.

I am so proud of you; so proud to be your Mama.

I love you, forever and always xxxx