So here is the scoop. I love being the oldest child in my family. No doubt about that. I can’t really compare it to anything else (like being the middle child or the youngest) because I’m not either or those. Actually; if you include all my in-laws on Jake’s side of the family I am the youngest there, but that’s not the point of this blog. I am the oldest of four beautiful and each uniquely talented children my parents had. Like any eldest child would tell you it’s a bitter sweet. So, for those of you who are the oldest maybe this is something you can relate to, and if you’re not here is a small look into my mind as an oldest child.
- We are the guinea pig child. Whether it’s discipline or favorite foods we were the ones that were tested on first. And the crazy thing is, each child is different, so what worked on us may not work for you. But that didn’t excuse the fact that you, oh young one; likely received the same treatment. For example; myself and my sister (the next eldest) grew up together and loved playing with dolls, we were groomed to be the best mothers and house wives once we grew up. My youngest sister who is seven years younger grew up not at all into dolls; but she loves animals, which I never really did however Neta (second in line to the throne) does. (Family order; myself, Neta, Abe, Brenda) It was assumed Brenda would love wheeling her pretend baby around in a miniature stroller; instead she hoarded stuffed animals until her bedroom more resembled a stuffed animal zoo, with stuffed critters ranging in all sizes and colour. My brother being the only boy in the family could be seen as a guinea pig child too. Due to enforced gender roles growing up he was rebuked for playing with dolls and found his preference playing with remote control monster trucks and video games any way. A totally different life from that of the girls in my family.
- We will always have your best interest at heart, even if it may not seem that way. We promise we love you and if anyone ever hurt you we would hunt them down with a baseball bat. For real. I hope this discourages anyone from dating my younger siblings until they’re in their thirties. In my case I am unparalleled in my inability to express my best interest for my siblings. I am often loud and overbearing, I’m rudely honest in ways I don’t mean to be, and I am constantly applying pressure in areas of their lives where I think growth needs to happen. All this because I love them and want to see them succeed and do well and find eternal happiness and fulfilment. Really, I am just being hurtful in most cases and making myself unwanted and I realize that and am working on it.
- Our heart breaks for you. When I see you struggling with the same things I did, bullying or lack of friends or unable to communicate with our parents it’s so discouraging to me because I know there is nothing I can do to smooth things over or give you friends. Hell, I still don’t know how to make friends. I know somethings you will need to grow out of and grow into. Even still my heart breaks with yours, always.
- I just want to hangout. My younger siblings all have their friends (even that one sibling who believes he doesn’t have friends when he clearly does) and spend a lot of time with them; understandable. But in my selfishness, I feel like they neglect to make time to hangout with me. Make time for me please, I miss seeing your face and you’re growing so fast I feel like I’m literally missing every phase of your life.