Izzy's First Spring

Izzy was having one of those days. The sort that two year olds often have, according to her grandma. Unfortunately, it seemed like mummy was having one of those days too. The sort that busy working mums of two year olds often have, according to her dad, who would take her and the dog out when he got home to ‘give her mum a bit of space’. Izzy thought she didn’t take up much space, but maybe Benji did. He was quite big and black, but fun to play with. He’d been left at home this morning. Mummy wanted to pop to the shops to ‘get a couple of bits’ (bits of what? Izzy wondered). Anyway, apparently the dog can’t do baby sitting so Izzy had to go too. Which was fine, she was happy to go for a walk and see what was new since yesterday. At the moment there are lots of new things appearing. Trees are turning green with fresh new leaves, not like the brown crunchy ones she sometimes finds in the gutter. Next door’s front fence turned pink almost overnight –mummy says it’s clematis. It’s very pretty, Izzy thinks. She’d quite like a coat in that colour. So having put her new blue shoes on and her dark blue coat with the yellow ducks on it, Izzy was ready to walk to the shops.

But once they got outside her mum picked her up and plonked her, somewhat unceremoniously Izzy noted, in the pushchair. She was strapped in and off they went, far too fast for Izzy to see any new flowers, next door’s clematis went by in a pink blur. Izzy wasn’t happy about this at all and she said so: “Mummy, want to walk”, she said quite politely. Mummy was pushing with one hand and on her phone with the other and ignored Izzy completely. “Want to walk” Izzy said a bit louder. Mummy  glanced at her and said “No sweetie, we haven’t got time.” Izzy wasn’t happy about this but thought that maybe the shop was going to close – this had happened once with daddy and Benji. They’d been playing in the park and when they got to the shop to pick up some milk it was shut. Mummy was really cross with daddy about that.

So Izzy sat back and was pushed to the shop, and pushed around the shop, kicking her heels on the seat of the pushchair. When they came out of the shop she said again, “Mummy, want to walk”. Mummy said again “No, there isn’t time, you’ll be too slow.” Izzy found that quite insulting as she can run now as well as walk. So she stuck to her guns and repeated again “want to walk”, several times, getting a little louder each time. After the fourth or fifth time, mummy relented and unclipped the strap. Izzy slipped off the seat and ran ahead. “Wait”, mummy shouted. “I can’t win”, Izzy thought, “first I’m too slow, now I have to wait for mummy.” But she stopped at the road as she knew she should.

After they’d crossed the road, Izzy holding mummy’s hand like a good girl, Izzy let go and started to look at the ground to see if there were new flowers growing. She stopped at all the front gardens with low walls or fences and had a good look around, pointing and shouting out the colours of the flowers to mummy:

“Look blue.”

“Look mummy, pink clematis.”

“Look mummy, red flowers”.

After half a dozen houses mummy was tired of this and said Izzy had to hurry up or get back in the pushchair. At that moment Izzy spotted some flowers growing on the pavement. She crouched down to get a closer look. Mummy tried to pick her up and put her in the pushchair. Izzy screamed and wriggled. She escaped mummy’s arms and lay down on her back next to the flowers still screaming and kicking her legs.

Mummy sighed, “Not this again, Izzy,” she said. Izzy rolled onto her tummy so she could look closely at the flowers. They looked like the ones grandma has in a pot next to the front door. “Look mummy,” she said, “Grandma’s flowers.”

“Oh yes,” mummy said, “pansies. They must have grown from seed blown here by the wind.”

“Pretty,” said Izzy.

“Yes they are,” mummy agreed.

Izzy stroked the soft purple petals gently. They felt smooth and velvety like Bren her little brown bear. There were yellow petals too, the colour of the ducks on her coat. The centre of the flowers looked like eyes smiling at her. Izzy smiled back. The tantrum-induced tears dried on her cheeks. Dead leaves had gathered by the pansies as if to protect the new growth. Izzy picked up some of these and crushed them in her little hands to hear the crunch. She picked up a stick lying there and poked in the leaves until a black crawly thing came out.

“Hello,” said Izzy to the woodlouse. “Look mummy.”

Mummy said, “Yuk, don’t play in the dirt, Izzy. Come on let’s go home.”

Izzy stroked the petals one more time and stood up. She climbed back into the pushchair, feeling tired. It must be nearly time for a nap. She hoped the flowers would still be there later so that she could show daddy and Benji. When she got home, after washing her hands which mummy made her do before touching anything in the house, she went to find Bren. She stroked him gently, telling him he was as soft and smooth as a pansy.