Christmas for the youngest child

We love all our children equally.  We really do.  Just don’t evaluate that statement based on the amount of presents doled out on Christmas morning.

The older two boys opened all their presents on Christmas morning and it looked like this:

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Then they helped open the presents for their youngest brother and it looked like this:

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One finger–play book and two packs of baby food that Santa pulled from the diaper bag in a “don’t forget about the baby!” moment.

That’s not the only bummer about being the youngest of three boys.  After presents we headed to Grammy/Poppy’s house for brunch where the other babies (his cousins, who are both only children) were coddled and cooed over and the older cousins happily played with each other, and Leo was left alone in his high chair where he had been given a piece of dry toast to gnaw on by some kindly passerby.

After brunch while I was in the kitchen and others were finishing up eating, they all erupted into laughter. I popped my head in to see that Leo had been at some point released from the high chair and was on the floor, getting the inside of his mouth thoroughly cleaned out by my parents’ dog.   More specifically, by my parents’ dog’s tongue.  Judging by the cleanliness of his mouth, this had been going on for quite some time and no one had noticed.

Later in the day I was telling my oldest sister that Leo is 10.5 months and still doesn’t sit up.  My younger sister said, “He doesn’t?  We didn’t know that so we sat him up when we babysat a couple weeks ago!”  They had pictures of him sitting up, for proof.  Then my oldest sister sat Leo up on the ground and he stayed there sitting for a good five minutes or so, in the middle of an intense game of keep-away. 

It’s not that he wasn’t sitting up; it’s just that we hadn’t noticed.

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So if you’re the youngest of three, you might not get quite the level of attention that your older siblings got and a milestone or two might be noticed a month late.  For all we know, Leo unbuckled himself and climbed out of the high chair on his own at Christmas brunch.

But the thing about youngest sons being *occasionally* overlooked is… 

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…they don’t give a fig.

(Either that or they’re just really excited Mom is close enough to take their take his picture.)

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