30/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 ( 26 July, 3 years)

When you were new and tiny, I would often cast my mind to this day, your third birthday, and I was not be able to imagine what it would be like to have two two year olds, or two three year olds. I could picture two one month olds because we were going through it right then and there. But two three year olds! And now we are here and it is beyond anything I could have imagined in my wildest dreams. How much you amaze me, challenge me, grow me, make me laugh, make me cry, teach me, try me, and let me be an intimate witness to one of the most special relationships between two humans. Your third birthday means I have been a mother for three years (and for no time and for all time). And I can't believe my babies have grown and changed and morphed from newborns to little people who are celebrating their third birthday. 

The day started with balloons and presents in bed, and ended that way too. In between you opened presents - we gave you handmade dolls and you got pink tricycles from Kimmy and Bear, you went for a hair cut, we blew out candles, we ate cake, we went for high tea at The Westcliff with the family, and we sang happy birthday a million times. 

Happy birthday darling girls. You are the brightest lights. 

29/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 ( 2 years 11 months)

This photo is taken in the foyer of our apartment building. A few years ago, all the residents worked together on the paper mosaic on the wall, created by an artist living in the building. On arriving home, I would walk through the foyer and spend some time adding tiny squares of paper to the mosaic. It represents a lot about where we live and the wonderful spirit of community in this building. It's a place where your neighbors know your name, where a dad will knock on your door late at night asking for a nappy as they have run out, where mom's chat way past dinner time, a place where friendships are formed while planting seedlings in the veggie garden. The foyer has become an aeroplane or school room when you play down there, and a garden swing hung outside a friend's apartment has become a place where you've found your wings, learnt new tricks and dared to swing high as you can go. It is a bitter sweet feeling leaving the only place you've known as home. Where the building staff and all it's residents have know you since we first brought you back from the hospital, the place where you've grown into three year olds. 

28/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 ( 2 years 11 months)

Our new apartment is at one end of a very long corridor. You usually want to run all the way back to the lift after a visit. Your running styles are quiet different - Anna I could describe your's as determined as you insist on being first and try with all your tiny might to keep that position, and Florence, your's as vertical as you prance upwards more than forwards. 

27/52 2016

A portrait of my babes once a week in 2016 ( 2 years 11 months)

We are in the middle of renovating our new apartment. You have been involved in the whole process, from drawing out your plans, to choosing colours, and coming with us to most of the site visits. You get full energy at the new apartment - I think it is because of all the space, and hopefully the feeling you get from the place. As I watch our new home come to life I picture you in all these new spaces - sitting at the counter while I make breakfast, playing in the bath of your very own pink bathroom (although I have no doubt we will all end up in the same bath anyway).