I am 9

here we stand, 9 years down the line....the trauma of the birth "experience" more or less forgotten, the stuff in between then and now fading into memory, myth and legend...here she is - the one who keeps us in order while forgetting her own stuff, the one who can understand and explain things to her older sisters, the one with the confidence to do amazing things and the shyness still to hide behind my legs...she loves numbers, dancing, music, rhythm, colour and wears crazy clothes. She doesn't understand jokes or word play, idioms, irony or down-right daftness but has a fantasy big enough to keep us all amused for months. She's an enigma - a cuddle-monster who doesn't like being touched, a dreamer and a critical thinker. Goodness only knows where she'll go in life but, one thing's for sure, I'll be right behind her as long as she needs me...picking up socks, finding books, gently reminding, making pretty things with her and joining in the dancing, singing and crazy clothes fun. She was our surprise baby I wasn't sure I wanted but who I could never live without.
She'll always be my baby and always be the child who is most like me....with all the good and bad things that brings with it.