Almost everyone in my house is over 5’5″. Almost. Five of the six of us are. My four year old daughter is not. She’s not even over four feet tall. She’s also very observant of the fact that she’s the very smallest of our family. In fact, she’s started telling strangers “I’m the only child in my family,” which confuses strangers who then try to figure out who all the teens are and what our relationship to them might be.
It’s hard being so small in such a big family. Big people can do a little more, play a little harder, push themselves a little longer. A tiny person has to expend twice as much energy just to keep up on a walk. So it’s no wonder that after our month of fun on the road, our smallest member was a little bit tired. But because she’s four, there’s no way she would actually rest. Rests are for babies. Continue reading