And the Girls are Great, Too

I remember the moment - the very moment - that each of my girls was born.

I don't remember what time of day they were born, though Allison arrived at 3:27 a.m. See, we'd moved to Colorado the year before she was born. So it was somewhat unfamiliar territory. And all during our prenatal classes at the hospital, we practiced the route we would take when the big day came.

But my wife was well into labor when we left the house, and I got a better idea on the way to the hospital. Which meant we got lost, and we arrived too late for my wife to receive pain medication before Allison arrived.

She's still grateful for that one.

What I mean is, I was in the room when each of my daughters was born. I saw them arrive. Heard their first cries. I guess that's increasingly common for dads these days, but I'll never forget how each of those moments made me feel.

Last month, Allison started third grade. And Madeline joined her at school for her first day of Kindergarten. Two of my babies have suddenly become school-age.

All of the wise people you know will tell you to pay attention. Take it easy, and keep it all in perspective. The time, they'll say, will go by in an instant. Before you know it, they'll be rebellious teenagers, and then out of the house, on their own. And you'll wish you could have all those colicky nights and dirty diapers back again.

I'm beginning to think they're right.

At breakfast one morning, Allison asked me why the Bible doesn't mention dinosaurs. She followed up that cold water in my face with this perfect syllogism: the first people were cavemen; Adam and Eve were the first people; so Adam and Eve must have been cavemen. Right, dad?

Madeline is more emotional than her sisters, and I love that about her. She hangs on me, and many mornings, she refuses to let me go. But she's also learning to read, and write, and she has developed skills and opinions. Some evenings during dinner, I listen to her talk, and I wonder who this little girl is. Where did she come from, and how did she get so big, so fast?

And Olivia is perfectly willing to call me on my parental BS. If she senses that I'm trying to put one over on her, she juts out one hip, firmly plants her hands on her hips, and tells me that I'm wrong. She doesn't have to know the truth. She only feels compelled to point out when I'm wrong.

Some days, I feel like Tevya. My father told me this time would come. I just didn't think it would come so quickly.

As smart and bold as they are, that's not even the best part. They are just good girls. The first time we took the boys to see our doctor in Cheyenne, a group of nurses and others in the waiting room quickly gathered around the boys. They asked a lot of questions, and ooooed and awwwwed. And barely acknowledged that my daughters were standing there, too.

When the show began to wind down, I realized that my daughters had simply stepped back out of the halo and allowed everyone to gawk at their brothers. So I took the opportunity to tell the crowd how wonderful the boys' sisters have been. So helpful, so gentle with their brothers. And how they're growing up, heading into pre-school, Kindergarten, and third grade.

Yes, the boys are doing well, I said. And my girls are great, too.

I love you, ladies. And I appreciate the grace with which you have accepted your brothers.