Sometimes I think it must not be easy for Grace to be the third child...like when she really wants me to look at picture books of baby animals with her and I really need to help Jake with his homework. There is only so much of me to go around, and it's not always easy.
Other times, I think Grace is very lucky to be the third child...like when she is absolutely not content to play by herself, and I really need to roll out tortillas, and we reach a happy compromise when I set her on the counter to watch. She dips her hand into the flour bucket, first gingerly, then with bold strokes and big handfuls. Soon half the contents of the container are on the counter. But because she is my third child I watch and think to myself that I'll just sweep the flour back into the bucket when I'm done and it will be OK.
Sometimes it may not be easy. But sometimes it's not so bad after all.