Writing this feels like opening a memory box and letting everything spill out — not just the big moments, but the tiny details that made up our days. This year deserves that care. It deserves to be remembered properly.
As I write this, the year is closing — and I find myself feeling more emotional than I ever expected. Not because anything is wrong, but because this year with you has been so full, so rich, and so quietly beautiful that I want to pause it for just a moment longer.
2025 was our year. 
“I didn’t expect to feel so emotional looking back- not because I’m sad, but because this year with you mattered more than I realised while we were living it.”
January — Snow and Stillness
We began the year at home, with snow falling softly in January, which is very rare at the seaside! The garden — so familiar to you — became somewhere new overnight. We wrapped up warm and played outside together, your boots crunching through the snow, your laughter rising into the cold air.
It felt like a gentle beginning. Like the year was asking us to slow down before it gathered pace.
Winter — Snowy Adventures
Soon after, we travelled to Zell am See in Austria — your second ski holiday but first proper snow holiday where you played (you were a baby in Italy). Mummy, Daddy and Grandma all together, watching you discover snow on a much bigger scale.
You didn’t hesitate. You fell, sleighed, laughed, stood back up again, completely unfazed. Watching you there, I saw confidence growing without you even realising it. I learned something too — about trusting you, and trusting myself to step back just enough.
February — Love in the Little Things
February was soft and steady. Valentine’s Day was spent with at one of our favourite play cafes with our friends and in the evening with Bodge, our family dog at Uncle Ricks and Auntie Emma’s. You were already becoming more expressive this year. More sure of what you liked, what made you feel happy and safe.
March — Friends, Play and Becoming You
March brought rhythm. Playdates with friends. Park picnics. Trips to the zoo. Days filled with laughter and movement. As the year went on, you became braver in so many small but meaningful ways. Your first trampoline park — the mix of excitement and uncertainty on your face, quickly replaced by pure joy. Your growing love of big slides. How you’d pause for a moment, then commit fully, trusting that you’d land safely. Each of these moments felt like a quiet announcement: I can do this.
At home, your personality was shining through more clearly. You loved copying me — especially my (limited) beauty routines. Lipsticks lined up, creams squeezed out generously, hair brushes passed back and forth. And more recently your nails — always your nails. You loved having them painted after Princess Elsa from Frozen painted them for the first time later in the year, sitting so carefully, hands held out proudly afterwards, showing everyone who would look.
April — Celebrations and Milestones
April was full and started off with chicken pox, you were absolutely covered, you poor girl, but you did so so well, we had quiet days recovering together and you were just about better for your second birthday.
Your birthday arrived — a day with family and then a party with your friends, excitement everywhere, and Peter Rabbit turning up like something straight out of a dream. Your face in that moment is etched into my heart. We had revamped a playhouse for you, a passion project for Mummy but seeing your hours of play in it over the coming summer months was worth it all.
May — New Experiences
May brought something completely new: your first camping trip. Sleeping somewhere different, waking up to the outdoors, learning that adventure doesn’t always look like hotels or holidays — sometimes it’s just being somewhere unfamiliar together. It was SO cold in the evening, unusually cold, I was concerned but you took it all in your stride. Curious, adaptable, excited. I remember thinking how capable you already were.
Summer — Sunshine, Firsts and Change
Summer felt full in a different way.
It was dotted with adventures alongside Auntie Laura, Isla and Alexander — days that blurred into one another in the best way. Playful, loud, joyful days where you laughed easily and felt completely at home. Watching you with them reminded me how lucky you are to be surrounded by people who delight in you just as you are.
Your first sports day at nursery came in the summer — running, listening, joining in, doing your best. I watched from the side, heart full, realising how quickly you were growing into yourself.
July brought warmth, busy days, and something else entirely — mummy being pregnant. Something you didn’t fully understand yet, but something that shaped our summer all the same. This summer felt layered. Full of sunshine and softness, movement and pause. A season where life was quietly shifting beneath our feet.
Independence — Time with Grandma
This was also the year you stayed with Grandma for a whole week while mummy and daddy travelled. It felt big. Emotional. Hard for me.
And yet you had the most wonderful time.
You showed us that independence can grow gently, held by love. That being apart doesn’t weaken connection — it deepens it.
Travelling Together
London came next — busy, loud, overwhelming at times and you coped so well even when it was a lot. There were cuddles, tired moments; and stitches, bandages and plasters for a big accident along the way. You slipped and split your chin open, I think we will both be scarred for life, but in different ways, you were so brave and such a good girl; you are strong. We had a wonderful trip though, full of exploring, navigating the underground with a pram and busy city living. I felt that familiar mix of pride and protectiveness — loving someone small in such a big world.
There were festivals too — Dubbed Out, celebrations for Daddy’s 40th, and sunshine in Cyprus. You loved being in the water, your swimming and confidence in the water has really come along this year.
Autumn — Confidence and Capability
Autumn arrived with pumpkin picking, potty training which you adapted so incredibly well, and trick-or-treating. Answering the door confidently, delight written all over your face as you handed out sweets.
I watched you move through the world with more certainty. More confidence. More joy in being you.
Christmas — Soft Magic
Christmas came gently. Parades, your first pantomime, gingerbread baking, The Polar Express, meeting Santa, pyjamas you adored. It all felt magical, but not rushed. Just enough.
The Last Day
And today — the very last day of the year — we went out for brunch together. Just us. Sitting, eating, talking, being.
It felt like the perfect ending. Quiet. Intentional. Enough.
Looking Back
You grew this year. And so did I. You taught me how to slow down. How to notice. How to hold joy without rushing past it. This year wasn’t just shaped by places and milestones, but by people — the ones who showed up again and again, loving you fiercely and helping to make your world feel big, safe and full.
And as our family prepares for what comes next, I’m holding this year carefully — knowing it shaped us in ways I’ll always carry.
Thank you for every ordinary and extraordinary moment.
Thank you for choosing me as your mummy.
All my love,
Mummy 🤍
This was so beautiful to read and to treasure .
You are a gifted writer…but most of all a brilliant mummy .