I am the Third Child. Sometimes my parents call me “the sweet one”, other times “the rascal”.
They probably carry me on their hip more than they need to, or spend an extra second trying to soak in that sweet baby smell behind my neck. And they probably always will…because I am the baby…the denouement. They are tired and yawn a little more with me….but they are relaxed and smile a little more with me.
At 22 months, I’m hanging out somewhere between babyhood and childhood. They say I’m a toddler, but I don’t toddle…I just run…I’ve got older kids to keep up with.
I am the Third which means I spend most of my time in a car seat shuttling around to siblings’ school or sporting events. Unlike those before me, I don’t know a nap schedule or routine.
I probably won’t have a real birthday party until I’m 10. They forget to video my first steps or haircut. I have a feeling my mom will never get around to making me a scrapbook, and most of my clothes were someone else’s first.
But on the upside, I’m easy-going, traveled a lot, really friendly ….and I get to steal moments like these when I have my parents alone at 6 am while everyone else is asleep. And as the Third Child, I’m skipping the tri-cycle and going right to the big girl bike in life!