I fear that my children will fulfill their prophetic roles regarding birth order.
You know the ones who say first-borns are bossy, know-it-alls while second-borns are dependent and lack initiative.
And should there be three children? Well, that middle child is just destined for neglect.
Oh sure, there are positive aspects, too. I have always enjoyed my role as a first-born. I understand rules and can recite what’s fair and what’s not between my sister and me until I am blue in the face.
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My son is just now getting down that phrase, “It’s not fair,” but he hasn’t quite figured out the proper application for maximum effect.
When my son bowed out of swimming lessons a few weeks ago, we accepted that he needed a break. And now he stays home with one of us on the Saturday that my daughter goes to her lessons. As tempting as it was to not enroll the both of them for a session or two, I couldn’t do it. That would have been a typical second-child blunder that would feed into my fear.
The other day, a woman walked up to me at daycare and asked if I was Bean’s mom. When I confirmed that Bean was indeed my daughter, she talked about our girls being friends.
Right then and there it dawned on me. I know two other children in my daughter’s class by name.
I knew all the children in my son’s class by name long before this point. Something is amiss here!
It can’t really be that I have missed the boat on this one? Can it?
There is still time to remedy the situation. Must learn children’s names and figure out who belongs to who!
(At least before the year is up.)