Abbey's Road: On stereotypes about siblings, both two- and four-footed

Everybody has stories they tell about the first kid versus subsequent kids.

Raise your hand if you have or were a “typical firstborn.” Yes, you: Compliant, Type A, potty trained at 6 months, could read fluently by 3, etc.

I’m not saying that all the stereotypes are right; I’m just saying we have one of those and she happens to be the oldest.

Then they say the second child — or third, if you have one — is the one who gives you a run for your money: Shampoos the dog’s fur with the same Cerulean Seas latex you used on the bathroom walls; goes to school with pants on backward and inside-out; gets in trouble for throwing spitballs in the lunchroom.

This is not actually our second child — not entirely. She would talk her younger sister into painting the dog’s fur so as not to get in trouble for it; would carefully place a spitball onto someone’s head without them knowing so as not to get in trouble for it; and would definitely go to school with her pants on backward and inside-out.

The third I haven’t exactly nailed down. She doesn’t take herself too seriously and dreams of spending her adulthood in the apartment complex behind us with a host of cats and dogs. As any sensible 6-year-old would.

So, as you can see, birth-order stereotypes only somewhat play out in our house among the two-legged family members.

But where I have been seeing stronger correlations have been among the four-legged creatures, who are still struggling to find their place in the world, evidently, although they have reluctantly coexisted for nearly four months.

Sherlock, the first-found, has more than a decade of quiet, curmudgeonly existence to his credit. By the time his young counterpart came along, he had eaten more expensive prescription cat food than most cats do in a lifetime; taken more naps in a completely-in-the-way sunny spot than I could dream of; and had made a few escape attempts but not tried super hard, only to be drawn back to the coziness of our four walls and nights spent at Mr. Roy’s feet on our memory foam mattress.

Just when he thought he had it made as an Only Cat, one day Mr. Roy left for a haircut and came back with The Holy Terror Called Watson.

Little did Mr. Roy know, that day when he went out for a haircut and stopped into the humane society to “just look around” and came home 15 minutes later with the most outgoing cat in the joint, that Watson would turn out to be the stereotypical Second-born Crazy that everyone warns parents about.

Initially, some of the behaviors were easy to write off: He’s still getting used to life here; he used to be a stray, so he has some weird habits; he’s not used to having a big brother; he’s just playing.

But then his penchant for mischief began to make its way to prominence.

We’ve found that we cannot leave any food — even and especially packaged food, including but not limited to bread in bags, potato chips in bags, and Expensive Prescription Cat Food in bags — in any location accessible by Watson.

Because of his penchant for carbohydrates, we have had to pitch half loaves of bread; packages of tortillas; and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that have been prepared for school lunches but not yet loaded into lunchboxes. This is to say nothing of the paper towels, plastic bags, Lego pieces and other miscellaneous items that our voracious second fur baby has ingested in the four months he’s been with us.

And yet he is somehow endearing, winning us over with his little mews and goofy mannerisms and demeanor that complies with being toted around the house by an overly affectionate 6-year-old.

And though I don’t have a stereotypical second- or third-born terror of a child, this gives me a glimpse into what that life is like. Because somehow in the middle of all their chaos, you’ve just got to love them. And hope that some day, they’ll figure it out.

Until then, they keep you on your toes.

Abbey Roy is a mom of three girls who make every day an adventure. She writes to maintain her sanity. You can probably reach her at [email protected], but responses are structured around bedtimes and weekends.

This article originally appeared on Newark Advocate: Abbey explores birth order in her family's kids and cats