Our dear little William is now a bubbling happy three year old, curious about everything that life puts in front of him. It's pretty wonderful hearing all of the quirky things that pop in his head.
"Daddy look, I fell down just like the Sens!"
"Daddy, can me and Juliette go to your meeting with you?"
"Daddy I have two sisters. One - Anya. One - Juliette. Anya died. I was sad. Daddy why did Anya die? She didn't want to die"
It's always a bit surprising to see William demonstrate how much he's absorbed in his short life. He's already at the point where he understands that he had a sister called Anya, that she died, and that death is sad.
Tackling 'Why did she die?' is a tricky one. I try to balance being forthright and honest, without framing it in a way that could make William fearful about his own mortality, or that of his parents and sister. Usually, this is by answering that Anya's body didn't work, that it didn't let her breathe. And that usually, bodies don't stop working until someone becomes very old.
To which he responds "Daddy I'm not old, I'm new."
Yes William, you're new.
Eventually we'll have to tackle the cruelty of that unfair caveat, "usually". But we're not there yet.