Having three children under the age of eight is difficult. I'll pause
while all you kindred spirits nod your heads in agreement. There are
only so many hours in the day, and only so many ways to divide yourself
up. Different needs, different wants, different schedules. Add to that a
relationship with a spouse and any pursuits of your own and soon
something starts to get neglected or expected to stand on its own more
often.
In the beginning, it is fairly universal that the husband/wife
relationship gets pushed to the back burner in favor of the new baby,
new demands, sleep. As time goes on you find you have learned more and
are able to bring more of a balance back into your life. Then just about
the time you feel stable, WHAM!, along come more children and knock you
for another loop. Again some area of your life is called upon to demand
less. It wasn't until today that I realized I was expecting that duty to
fall to someone, who while not a baby, still needs me like the dickens.
It started as a whim several weeks back. My oldest daughter, Culley,
asked me to curl her long blond hair for school. Checking my watch, I
said OK, that we had enough time to try. For fifteen minutes we stood in
my bathroom, carefully spiraling her shiny locks and talking of
everything and nothing. Everything: Her new school, boys she liked, boys
who liked her. Nothing: Pokemon, Catdog, How do Rice Krispies talk to
you? When we finished, she turned and hugged me and said I love you.
What a great way to start the morning. Well, we have been starting every
morning like this for two weeks now. When I asked her if she still liked
her curly hair, she looked at me with her huge blue eyes and said,
"Sure, but I mostly just like getting you to myself for a while."
I've thought of little else since and her point has been well taken. As
the oldest sibling, she quietly sits in the background while I
constantly fight with my middle daughter and take care of my youngest.
Even in my articles, I write more about Kendallrella and the "baby." I
suppose it is the "squeaky wheel getting the grease" theory, because
Kendall is always squeaking and Carson is always reaching easy to write
about milestones. I suppose part of it is that she has made it so easy
to look to the needs of the younger siblings. From the day she was born,
she has been quiet, an observer, content to take things in and watch.
Just seconds old, she was casting her blue eyes all around, too busy
exploring to bother with crying. She is what one often describes as "an
old soul," a thinker. She is also a good kid and as a parent I have
obviously taken advantage of that. A big mistake, and one I'm certain
many parents with more than one child are guilty of.
How often when we are reprimanding our oldest do we include the
admonition, "As the oldest, I expect more from you!"? How about the
guilt trip of, "You have to remember, your little sisters are looking up
to you!"? We tend to expect more of them, which also translates into
expecting them to be more self sufficient, less trouble, less needy. I'm
realizing that could not be farther from the truth. Sure, a two year old
is still learning it is wrong to climb the furniture and walk on the
back of the couch, and the seven year old should know this. But in so
many other ways, they are learning and discovering just as much as an
infant. As the oldest, Culley is leading the charge through the life
experiences that will be "old hat" for us by the time Carson sees them.
And just as she needed my hands to support her while learning to walk,
she still needs my presence to guide her through the minefield called
life.
There have been myriad studies and research about the placement of
children in the family unit. The youngest is sweet, always looked out
for by those above and fairly easygoing. The notorious middle child,
having been knocked from the throne of youngest and knowing they will
never be the oldest, constantly strives to stir things up and gain
attention. The oldest child is characterized by being quiet,
responsible, thoughtful. True, true, true. While there are exceptions to
these "rules," my children are straight out of a child psychologist's
textbook. I am just sorry that it is only dawning on me now that while
she is counted on to be more quiet, more thoughtful and more
responsible, she still needs some "grease" too. So I plan on curling
that child's hair for the rest of my life, if it means ensuring she
never feels the need to start "squeaking."
Copyright 2000 by Linda M. Sharp. Reprinted with permission.
Linda Sharp is an internationally published humorist who writes
regularly on the joyous and frustrating world of parenting. Her work
appears across the Internet and wraps around the globe in parenting
publications from Canada to Malaysia.
Linda is co-creator of the award winning website, Sanity Central —
A Time Out From Parenting! Located at http://www.sanitycentral.com,
it is totally irreverent, hysterical and packed with enough laughs to
brighten even the weariest of parents! As a mother of three children
(four if you count her husband), she firmly believes that laughter IS
the best medicine. She may be reached via email at lsharp03@aol.com.