They say a second kid progresses more quickly because they are trying to be like their older sibling, but I know a large part of this work is genetic. I know for a fact that you have not ever been bitten or had a toy thrown at your head and somehow you figured out this is a good way to get the attention of an older brother who is not being nice to you. Oh, well, you don't know your colors or your shapes and you think a lot of animals say "moo" that do not. Come to think of it, I still give you a bottle of milk, a pacifier, two naps a day, so you're not quite ready for college, but YOU, little buddy, are not going to be second at everything in a year or two. You are just too smart to let someone else take the lead.
Your Turn
Oh, the poor baby of the family, you are always second, even in the blog. It's a good thing you are a patient fellow. Mr. N, you sure do impress me. By 18 months of age, you can ride a bicycle with handlebars all around the house and do not have any trouble with corners or obstacles. You can blow your nose, well, better than I can. You can climb onto the couch and off. You can assemble a wooden train track by yourself and even a jigsaw puzzle if I show you where the piece is supposed to go. We didn't work at any of this; it was just "there." "It," the knowledge just appeared all of a sudden. It seemed like you moved onto new, more mature, games and mastered them at your first attempt. I change your diaper and you say "butt." Yep, loudly and clearly and perfectly and at a surprise to me. I'm sure you say 50 words already but I stopped writing them around 30. You tell me when you "potty" or sometimes instead quietly run to the baby toilet and sit. You tackle playgrounds and slides without me anywhere near you. You eat anything, including large carrots from my garden and you're just getting your molars.
