I am new at this having-a-daughter thing, even if I’m nine years in. In fact, each passing day I am new at it. Are we ever not new at it?
You may have an older brother, but you’re definitely the oldest sister; your sisters look up to you – especially Nettles, who worships you at the moment – and there’s something about that birth order where you are just totally prepared for it, innately. You’re caring, concerned, creative… I look at you and see in just a few years you’ll make an awesome babysitter/camp counselor/madricha. Well, when we can be in groups again, right?
Something else – this year, your curiosity has come out in a fuller force. Your connection to nature (and more recently as we explore locally it seems strengthened for sure), your attraction to tactile learning and feeling and trying. Your questions. Your thought process. It’s one big project-in-progress.
The other thing I want to tell you is – I don’t remember being this ‘big’ at your age. This worldly, this mature. It’s unclear to me if it’s a generation thing (probably) or where you’re being raised (also probably) or I was just a different sort… but it feels like we can discuss things on a more open level. You come to me when you want to talk – we have that pact between all of us – and I’m always ready to sit down and discuss whatever it is (broigus with classmates, expression of your emotions, questions about what comes next). That connection is so critical to me, Bebe… we’re on a ride together and so far we are sitting in the same cart, seatbelt over our laps, and I feel totally safe with you.