As a third child, I’m trying to make sure Ellery doesn’t look back and think we forgot about her on the porch for a few months. But it’s hard. The other two are constantly on the go and moving and climbing on me and asking for things and needing to be fed and clothed and then omigosh where did the whole day go? Then I look down and a little smiling face is looking up at me from the sling and I feel a pang of guilt. I hope I’m giving her enough. I’m a third child, and I seem to have turned out okay, but my mom was superhuman and was used to taking care of seven younger siblings. The three of us must have been cake in comparison.
Anyway, I’m learning to love this little pumpkin a whole lot. She’s so laid back in comparison to the others. Sure, she has her crying jags, but only when she’s hungry or tired. Otherwise, she’s chock full of smiles and good nature. So she must be happy, right?
Ellery, I hope you’re taking in the little hugs and kisses I squeeze in between prepping lunch and tying shoes. I hope you feel like part of the action when we’re singing the alphabet or counting cars. And know that you may not be getting my full attention, but that is fully made up for by your two siblings who think you are quite possibly the most delicious thing on Earth. If she could, Neko would take you to bed with her each night. She would tuck you under her arm and tote you around. Shep wanders over several times a day and looks at me with his furrowed brow and demands with extended arms, “Hold her.” You get more kisses from that kid than your father and I put together.
So hang in there. And just think, when Neko and Shep move out, you will have my full attention and will likely develop eye strain from the sheer volume of eye-rolling you do in response to the vast attention I lavish on you each day.