Dreamer in my Dreams

Hard to believe, but six years ago today this happened. In fact, right about now I was eating a World War II surplus bagel and watching my wife's contractions on a monitor. Leave it to us to actually enjoy the entire labor process. We stayed up all night talking and then, without the help of a single chemical, Gert was born.

And now she's six. She woke up today in a ball of excitment, excited about her birthday and her bowling party on Saturday. I gave her a little bag of plastic princess jewels to hold her present lust for the day. She was thrilled with it, the little goober.

It's just amazing that just yesterday (or so it seems) she was this little lump and now she's this goofball.

Edited to add: I noticed this in the birth story and I am simply amazed at how much she's knocked off this list in her first six years.

She has yet to walk or talk or discover the beauty of music, she has never seen snow or felt rain fall on her, she doesn’t know what it is to run barefoot across hot pavement to the swimming pool on a hot summer day. She has never tasted pizza or listened to Dr. Seuss. Nor has she ever seen a Picasso, Van Gough or Rodin. She doesn't know the Beatles, Beach Boys, Pink Floyd, Randy Newman, Elvis Costello, Beethoven, Bach. She has no concept of yellow, blue. She doesn’t understand the sweetness of a new love or the pain of a lost love. She’s never cut herself and seen her own blood, the fluid that supports her life. She has yet to see a movie or read a book. She's never been to Disney World. There is so much that she doesn’t know, that I can’t wait for her to experience.

Anyway, happy sixth birthday to my baby girl. I can't put into words the joy and pride I feel.

And now I have six more months to prepare for her sister turning 13. My stomach hurts . . .