Classic Youngest Child

The Girl has a birthday coming up.

Both of her brothers have remote controlled cars that they race around the house.  She is very annoyed that her old Strawberry Shortcake remote controlled car is too slow to keep up with theirs.  For her birthday, she asked for stuffed animals, costume jewelry and hair clips, and a big car like the boys have.

This morning I bought her a big, badass yellow Mustang.  She is going to love it.

She wants so badly to be big like the boys, which is good and bad.  She taught herself to read at 4 and could ride a bike without training wheels at the same age...she actually never needed the training wheels at all.  She's the best natural soccer player of the three, most likely because she's been on the sidelines of somebody's practice or game with a ball since she could walk.  The flip side of this is that she has been the child responsible for three of my last four ER visits (none bike-related, at least.)

She also really wants to be a big sister (so she will not be the youngest anymore!) but that is not happening.  I am gray enough as it is.  To paraphrase Bill Cosby, I have three children because I did not want four!