I could feel her swimming in there the way I never felt her brother.
We warped the floorboards walking and swaying with her after she was born and once she was able to stand on her own she was grabbing at anything that would hold her to help her walk, including the baby sitters dog who, apparently, would let her hold on to his fur and they would walk together until she could walk on her own.
Once she walked on her own there has been no stopping her.
She is going to be my athlete. She will be my gymnast. She will be taking Irish dance and probably ballet. She may even be my bully. She can take her lumps as well as dish them out. I can not tell you how many times that baby has crawled off the bed because she wanted to get down and do it herself. She has "no fear." I worry that she may not grow out of that but at the same time hope that she doesn't.
Right now, kisses and band-aids can fix the boo-boos. Right now, the boo-boos are small even when they seem much bigger than they are or could be, they are still fixable. I am not looking forward to the day it is something that I can not fix with a quick kiss or a band-aid and send her on her way.
I can only imagine her first crush, her first heart break, the first time she feels like she does not fit in and my heart hurts. I don't worry about my son. Not sure why, because he is the sensitive one, the actor, the artist. Maybe, because as women we handle things different and our emotions are ruled as much as by biology as by psychology. Maybe, because I internalize so much... I wonder if she will.
Will she fill notebook after notebook with teenage poetry about anger, resentment, passion and unrequited love? Will she be a dreamer or practical? Will she consider me an enemy or a confidant?
Time will tell and until then - I will fix as many boo-boos as she will allow.
This post was inspired by Mama Kat's - pretty much world famous - Writer's Workshop.