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 rest of us.

Yesterday I had to explain to you as you fell asleep that not everyone is as good at telling what the people around them are feeling as you are, and that you can’t expect people to just know how you feel if you don’t tell us. It just doesn’t make sense to you. You are so intuitive about things like that that you can’t imagine that anyone else isn’t. Which means that if someone accidentally hurts your feelings you imply deliberate intent. I’m doing my best to walk through this one with you. I hope you will figure it out soon.

You are a quick student of what makes a person smile, and you are sure to do those things when you want to be kind. Sometimes this ability turns to the dark side, for you also know what will make a person sad. But usually you use your powers for good.

You are very creative. You love crafts and drawing especially horses, cutting and gluing. You invent your own projects to do all the time. Which is good, because if you had to rely on me you would be waiting a while. In your wake is a trail of tiny pieces of paper, glitter, feathers, and shiny costumes. You love to dance as well, and you have a natural talent for it.

You love to dress up to wear pretty things. You could care less about style. So long as it’s shiny and soft and swishy you are content.

You and your brother invent games that go on all day and involve all of your toys and elaborate scenarios. It’s fun to eavesdrop on your imaginary world.

You are attentive to Little, and use her as an accomplice in your schemes, prompting her to ask for the things you want. You are pretty good at convincing her that she wants it too, but I know it’s you behind because you cry the loudest when I say no.

You are stronger than you know, both physically, and mentally. How many 6 year olds can walk a 3 mile trail, straight up hill and then down again without a word of complaint? You are tough when in pain, not crying or flinching when you have a cut that needs cleaning or sliver that needs pulling. It’s the imaginary aches and pains that hurt you the most. You hope they’ll keep me near you longer, keep you the center of my attention. What you don’t know is that you don’t need imaginary aches and pains to keep me near. One day it will be you who wants to leave me. and I will be the one who tries to keep you close.

I love you fiercely, my beautiful, sensitive, compassionate foreigner. I’m slowly learning your language and how to make sure that you know that, every single day.

Love,
your mama