It's so strange to not describe Little Elf as my baby any more. Up until four weeks ago, that's what she was and that's what she had been for three years. The one I carried close, the one I continued to feed, the one I curled up to in the night.
Overnight her role changed. She is searching for her place in the family, confused by how I am no longer arms free at any moment. She sees her doting mother craddling another with a look of love in her eyes that she thought was only for her. She is finding her anger, her emotions and testing them seeing how far we will go. I am trying to stand strong and let her know that nothing has changed but things are different now. To be a three year old finding her way is tough, but I know this strong, spirited, loveable, funny, shouty, determined little Elf will scramble her way through (stopping once in a while to climb a wall or fallen tree) and I'll hold her hand all the way.
