I always thought I’d have four children, which is a lot by today’s standards.  I always thought I’d have four because in the sibling list of my family, I was the fourth and final kid…and isn’t it true that the best is always saved for last?  But as I started having kids, I realized that child rearing was MUCH HARDER than I anticipated (I’m the quintessential ‘know it all’ when it comes to things I’ve never experienced before).  So after my third baby girl sent me on my knees pleading for mercy from the crying, screaming, tantrums, whining and overall ‘spirited’ behavior, I knew I was done.

But that third child…they’ve got a lot to handle, much like the fourth child does.  They are always picked on, they never get to do the ‘big kid’ stuff, they always get hand-me-downs…but one of the most wonderful things about being the third or fourth child is that there is always an older sibling to watch out for you.  For me?  I had my brother.  Yes, he nearly beat me to a pulp on a regular basis…but I remember one day when I was 6 or 7…we were at a playground and some older kid started to pick on me.  And my brother…the one who I was SURE hated me…he stuck up for me.  And from that moment on, I knew that despite the teasing and typical sibling rivalry, he really loved me and wanted to protect me. And that is something that I continue to carry with me to this day…

I have three girls…so the dynamic is pretty different from a brother/sister relationship.  But this little one…she has two older brothers to watch out for her and protect her.  And I know her parents couldn’t be happier…

Sweet baby girl…


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