I start first grade and feel apprehensive. I don't know that word yet, but I know what it means. My mother's ʻōpū swells around the baby she's carrying and I don't know if I want to be happy. I'm too big for her to carry now, she tells me. But I know it's actually because of the baby.
My cousin Candace asks me if I'm excited to be a big sister and I shrug.
"Well," I tell her plaintively, "I guess I won't be the baby anymore."
Mommy said I have some time to get used to the idea. It's only September and the baby won't be here until right before Christmas. She seems excited about it.