I loved being the baby of the family and the only girl. It meant I could get away with murder while my brothers took the fall. Muahahaha!
There wasn’t anything wrong with being the third and final kid except when it came to baby pictures. There are three total.
I always thought I wanted a little sister, but now I’m glad I never got one. I can’t imagine how she would’ve stole my spotlight! Sharing is still not my strong suit.
Birth order is fascinating now that I’m a mom with two girls. It’s always interesting to hear how it affects children and what characteristics are true. Lately I’ve been struggling with some mom guilt over not being able to give my second baby what I gave my first i.e. my undivided attention and patience. I don’t possess either of those things anymore.Probably never did!
This baby is lucky to get a bottle of milk thrown at her in between running laps around the front yard or a clean diaper before playing horsies or spinning. Forget story time or any kind of one-on-one time. This kid won’t even know what a book is. She probably won’t be able to read until she’s twenty at the rate I’m going. It breaks my heart because I was reading to my first born in utero and all the second born heard were reruns of Sesame Street, the never-ending whine of her older sister, and me shushing the whining. Granted, that’s all she still hears.
Everything is so different than before. There’s just no time. No time to sit still and read. No time to sit. No time to still. Definitely no time to read.
My guilt goes beyond reading though. The first one got professional photos done, four different sessions at 3.6.9. and 12 months. We have enough to wallpaper the house.
The second one got pictures at JC Penny…once.
While they’re still as cute, there’s just no comparison. The first one got all brand-spanking new clothes while the second one gets all her hand-me-downs, stains and all. The first one’s baby book is nearly done while the second one’s is completely blank. She’s 8 months, people. Eight months!
The first one will get to do everything before the second, while she watches from the sidelines. All the second one gets is shushed during nap time because she’ll wake up her sister with her squeals and then everyone pays the price. I never thought I could get frustrated with a baby–surely I’m a monster. Of course I love her with all my heart, but like I said, it’s different this time.
It’s too bad we can’t all be first borns or better yet, only children. I understand a little of why my own mummy will defend her first born tooth and nail They’re the cherished ones, the ones that got the best of us, or maybe the worst of us because we had no clue what we were doing and we have to defend them if anything but to save ourselves. Now I’ve just gone cross-eyed.
My only hope is that they’ll be BFFs, balancing each other out and when it comes time to split up my jewelry collection they won’t kill each other.