When Sam and I first had Piper, she was the classic first child. She adapted to things easily, she slept through the night early on, she was happy, and easy-going. Whenever anyone spent time with her, they’d eventually say with a smirk and a funny expression, “Just wait until the second comes along.”

You see, there’s this long-standing idea that the first child is this peaceful, ideal kid that convinces their parents, “We could totally do this again!” and leaves them totally unprepared for the second.

I remember being a kid, sitting in the church pew, and hearing this commandment. I remember looking over at my mom who was giving me a look that said, “Did you hear that?” I probably rolled my eyes because I thought God was backing her up on the whole 8 p.m. bedtime and doing my chores thing. Back then, that’s what honoring my parents meant: obeying them and following the rules. And sure, maybe that’s part of honoring– listening, heeding, and abiding. But it goes deeper than the age-old “because I said so” mentality that we’ve attached to that idea.