Two years ago I spent International Women’s Day bringing this little darling into the world.

Two whole years that feel like a few months.

It took me so long to get my head around the idea of a third baby and then when I fell pregnant I was still fearful and unsure and overwhelmed by the enormity of three children.

Five days of pre-labour and a really challenging birth forced me into the most vulnerable place I’ve ever been as a woman and a mother. And yet while I was there I learned my biggest lessons; in the depth of fear I got on with the job because all I wanted was for him and I to be safe. One breath at a time, one breath at a time, one breath at a time.

The unsettled months that followed would have rattled me as a first or second-time mum but instead of getting caught up in his screams or his unsettled sleep I soothed him, held him, comforted him and got on with the day. All the while knowing that it was a phase that would pass and one that we’d all learn from.

We’ve just turned the corner after four months of stubborn screaming and general crankiness following a traumatic weaning process. It’s been tough and exhausting and I admit, there have been times when I’ve wondered if it really was going to pass.

But out of Percy’s anger and frustration and sadness has bloomed a joyful, funny, clever, affectionate, beautiful boy who cuddles into me every night and falls asleep to the sound of “Pitter patter, pitter patter, rain is falling down.”

He is fiercely protective of his big siblings, has the most impressive appetite I’ve ever come across in a toddler and cuddles and kisses with all his might. And his words! Spilling out of his mouth with fervour and passion and a stubbornness that is both impressive and intimidating.

He also loves trucks and trains and diggers and buses. A lot. And thanks to his adoration of a certain blue truck, I know the words to this book off by heart.

Happy Birthday, Percy Pippin. You light up my world.