Doris at Four

In an almost 'narnian' feat of time-elapse, little Doris has turned four; the intervening years since the above photo was taken, slipping away with a bewildering rapidity. Had she held on another few hours she would have had an 05.05.05 date of birth -she didn't manage to make her birthday that easy to remember, her birthday instead is duly remembered with the lamentable tag, 'May the 4th be with you' (Anglicans may respond 'and also with you'). So while sports fans will remember 04.05.05 as the night on which Liverpool beat Chelsea in the semi-finals of the European Championship (which was showing in the delivery room, I might add), our family remember it as the day upon which our lives were changed forever by the presence of a daughter/sister!

Into our world of trains, footballs and mud a very girlie-girl has appeared. She surrounds herself with hairbrushes, pink shoes, glitter, hair-clips and all such accessories, changes her outfits at least four times a day, raids her Mum's make-up bag, and sings and dances her way around the house. This festival of girliness was never more evident than at her party yesterday in which several of her young friends appeared similarly bedecked in all things pink and shiny, grooved to "Dancing Queen", and decorated princess pictures with pink and red glitter!

Young Doris is convinced that four is very grown-up, and takes this very seriously. If her older brothers attempt to tell her what to do, or to suggest that being older gives them any kind of authority over her, she will resist their control with the resilience of a freedom fighter! Doris and I had a discussion at the weekend about 'who is in charge' in the house. She was not enthusiastic about the plan I had arranged for the day and told me to change it..hence the discussion which concluded with me explaining that she was a little girl and I was her Dad and that meant that I was in charge and organising the day. She sat and thought for a while, put her head to one side and came to a decision which she clearly thought was fair, resonable and well-considered. "OK Daddy", she said, "you can be in charge today...... but only a bit!"

She is also very aware of her own growing-up-ness. A couple of weeks ago she was sitting fiddling with her toes when she noticed one small, solitary, blond leg-hair! Examining it carefully she said, "Look! I'm going to be a Mummy soon!" - although why she so closely associates motherhood with hirsute limbs... I couldn't possibly imagine, or indeed comment if I could.

Happy Birthday little Doris!