Now You Are Six
The night you were born, the longest night of the year as my doula liked to make much of, one of the midwives flipped up the towel that was covering you before I even got a chance to look at your face and exclaimed, "It's a girl!" My immediate thought was, "But I don't know how to do girls. Boys I have figured out but I have no idea what I'm doing with a girl." I'm sorry to say my lovely daughter, but I still don't know what I'm doing. I'm just muddling through as well as I can. You are such a foreign entity to me and I am slow to catch on to you and your needs and your emotions. You need more affection than your brother ever did, more snuggling, more closeness, more time to just chat. I'm getting that part figured out now. You are laughter, fancy, joy and charm. You seem to inhabit an entirely different reality than the rest of us. You a girl of great lows and great sadness often over things that seem trivial to the r