A couple of weeks ago, my seven year old and I were talking about birthdays. Her 8th birhtday is coming up and the party planning is in full swing. However, this particular conversation was about which day of the week she was born. A quick Google check revealed it was a Thursday. I remembered I was also born on a Thursday. Googling revealed that my youngest was also born on a Thursday. My husband, was the odd one out, being born on a Saturday. Regardless, my daughter thought that was “so cool and amazing.” All the girls were born on a Thursday.
Her mind has been working on this birth order topic for a while and today, she came up with another realization. “Mom,” she said, “Dad is the oldest, and his name starts with a C, you are the second youngest, and your name starts with a J, then comes me and my name starts with an O, and Zoe’s, name is with a Z. The ages of our family and our initials follow the order of the alphabet, she announced. So cool . . . ,” she added as she went upstairs to get dressed.
I had to pause and digest this information as I was writing a note to her school, thinking about her snack, which I hadn’t made yet, and gearing up to clean up the post-breakfast mess. So much is always on my mind. I am continually envious of the uncluttered young mind.