(*Negotiations mainly included me saying, “Another one baby, pleeeeease?” and Mr. V looking at me like I had three heads.)
We didn’t exactly decide to have a fourth baby, but she sprang into our lives nonetheless. And she is a girl. And an awful lot like her brother, David.
(In case it’s been so long since I wrote about them you have no idea who I’m talking about, our kids are: Libbie [9], David [7], Joshua [5], and Hannah [22 months].)
While Libbie and Joshua seem to have sprung out of the womb independent and feisty, David emerged already a middle child, somehow. He was a difficult baby, but a shockingly easy toddler, happy to retreat to his bedroom and play quietly for hours. He threw fits over very few things, although he has always been on the more sensitive side and cried often. He nursed until he was 20 months, and possibly only stopped because I was pregnant with Joshua.
Now, at 7, David is still pretty quiet, happy to be playing by himself on his tablet or reading a book, and is often tugged back and forth between the more demanding Libbie and Joshua. He has the wild streak of a young boy, but his general temperament definitely feels like a middle child. (Whereas Joshua, although a middle child technically, seems to fit more into the role of youngest that he occupied for 3.5 years.)
It’s struck me as funny the ways in which Hannah and David are alike. She doesn’t have that introverted temperament that we wished for, but it’s the smaller things that are striking. They both look more like my husband, where Libbie and Joshua are pretty much my mini-mes. They share a passionate love for fruit. Hannah also nursed well into toddlerhood; I had to cut her off because I went on a new antidepressant, and she was just shy of 21 months and still asking to nurse a LOT. They’re both tiny. They don’t laugh at EVERYTHING like Joshua, but their giggles are well-earned and infectious.
And Hannah LOVES her David. When he is there, she’ll happily ignore Mommy and Daddy to sink into his lap and demand he read her a book. Hold my hand in the parking lot? Not a chance. But David’s hand is just fine. They have a few phrases that David will repeat to her many, many times just because he knows it makes her laugh. And she shares his adoration for Captain Underpants. (Really, toddlers should not know the word “underpants,” but mine sure does.)
It’s sweet to see all of her relationships with her siblings, and this one seems extra-special. I hope David is always looking out for his loving little sis.
? Nope. 
? Not a chance. He will wriggle until he is free or scream bloody murder until released from the restrictive cocoon. (If anyone would like to purchase an open but very much unused Miracle Blanket from me, shoot me an email. jessie at vanderbiltwife dot com.)
