It's still sinking in... that this little girl is all ours. That we have a daughter. That I am a mother of a {not so} baby girl. The clothes, the dolls, the tea sets and necklaces and bracelets...
It's scary and wonderful all at the same time. I've written about it before, as has Steph, Alisha, Becca, and countless others. The ache that is having a daughter; teaching, loving, and honoring.
Don't get me wrong, I contemplate mothering a boy cub as much as a girl, but in terms of Fynn, it's so different. My mind is filled with worries about how emotional he can be, how sensitive to certain things and so full of life and his own world. And with him it's more about the unknowns, as I have no idea what it's like to grow up as a boy.
But I know about being a girl.
And I wonder how much to share with her for her own well being. And how much to let her find out about on her own. It's so different than with Fynn. Already Paige is particular about what shoes she wears, or what outfits she wants... at 19 months... Lord help me... But there are subtle differences, the way she cares for her friends, her baby doll, her brother and parents. How she watches everything, and patiently figures out new tricks. It's amazing watching her, my little firecracker.
I love having a little girl, just as much as I love having a little boy. They are both blessings, and gifts in their own right. But Paige? She tugs at my heart in ways that Fynn will never, just by being her. Showing me what my mother probably went through with me. Seeing parts of me, another chance, maybe. And all I want to do is wrap myself around my swimsuit clad girl like the spf 30 she helped me apply this morning, and shield her from the damaging rays and let in the goodness that is out there. Because at times it's hard to know the difference.
But she'll know. I have to trust she'll know.
