I was shocked when the ultrasound tech told me it wasn’t a boy. Boys were all I knew. I’d earned some street cred from a decade in the boy mom arena, and the world of sparkles and emotions seemed so foreign. Scary even.
Despite my own hesitation, she burst into the world confidently.
She knew how to sleep.
How to eat.
How to grow heartily, thighs and cheeks as evidence.
She wrapped daddy around her finger, and drew her brothers into her joyful innocent world as if she expected nothing less.
She will probably be President some day - or a mob boss. She has no qualms dealing with either politicians or brute thugs. She loves to kiss babies. She wrestles head first.
She could totally handle government.
She sings.
She isn’t scared of the dark.
She loves sparkly shoes and babies.
She loves mud and tractors.
She softens us all.
She reminds us to slow down.
She finds joy in every little daily thing.
Every. Little. Daily. Thing.
It is good.
I had a lot to learn.
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