Tag: youngest child

The Last First

Today, I took our annual “first day of school” picture by the front door. We have been doing this for 20 years now (My eldest son, the eldest of four children, is 25). It is my daughter and our youngest child’s first day of her senior year of high school. This will be the last “first day of school” picture that I will ever take of our children. I’m feeling a little sniffly. I am trying not to sob. This is going to be an emotional year.

I’m the eldest “child” in my family. I was even the eldest grandchild on both sides, by five years. Frankly, I didn’t always love the pressure of the spotlight. I didn’t love always having to be the lead dog, and having to figure things out for myself (often the hard way). But, I did feel special and important and mature. I guess in some ways, I even felt a tad entitled. In my mind, for the burden of being the eldest, I “deserved” the biggest bedroom or to stay out later. I think that I always felt that I should have a “bigger say” in my little sister’s life, than she should have in mine. I now realize that’s silly. We deserve(d) equal respect.

I feel for my daughter. I am trying not to dump all of my emotional baggage into her backpack as she heads off to her last year of her childhood. She doesn’t need to be weighed down. I realize now that the youngest children in families, have to share all of their own milestones, with the entire family. The eldest children mark the beginning of it all, and the youngest children are the “official closing ceremony” of the raising of any particular family. That’s a heavy burden for the beloved babies of any family. Too much attention can be a big burden, especially when it is laden with emotion and melancholy and an endless reel of memories. This year, I’ll do my best to keep in my own lane, as I process this “ending/new beginning” stage of my own life, and this new stage of our family life. Hopefully, my baby will not notice (or at least pretend not to notice) when I hug her to me, harder than ever before.

27 Funny Tweets About Being A Youngest Child | HuffPost Life

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Drive Carefully

27 Funny Tweets About Being A Youngest Child | HuffPost Life

We’ve reached another parenting milestone. Our fourth and youngest child passed her driver’s test and is now a licensed driver. That’s the role of the youngest child, isn’t it? She gets to be the grand finale of all of the major milestones of childhood and parenting, in our family. She gets to be the exclamation point to all of the little triumphs along the way. Walking. Talking. Potty Training. First day of Kindergarten. High School Graduation. What a mixed bag of emotions, these grand finales bring to us parents! Relief. Pride. Wonderment. Nostalgia. Melancholy. Delight. Lightness. And some Heaviness. Confusion. Excitement. Mostly Love. Love. Love. Love!

I was the eldest child in my family. I have always been able to empathize with my eldest son about how hard it is to lead the way, and to forge the family path. It’s hard to figure out “cool” without an older sibling to lay down some hints along the way of the rocky path of adolescence. Our “oldest kid” lessons always came the hard way, with our parents, our teachers and our peers. The younger siblings had someone to watch carefully, and then, by careful observation, they got the ability to choose to either emulate our lofty triumphs and/or to avoid our brutal mistakes. We were the family guinea pigs. The younger siblings never had quite the glaring spotlight shown on them, as we eldest kids had on us, a light that was often so bright that it blinded us and made it hard for us to make a move. Interestingly, I think that the younger siblings both resented us oldest kids, and yet also, secretly found great relief, in that hard fact, of little less of a spotlight being shown on to them.

Even though I was the eldest child, I see that it can’t be easy for my daughter to be the youngest child, either. She doesn’t get the novelty of being the first to do almost anything. She gets parents who are little more tired, a little more worn for the wear, a little more jaded, and a little more heavy of heart, and yet a little more possessive, when she passes each of her milestones. Our familial tethers on her, are probably a little harder for her to loosen, than the ones that were connected to her three older brothers. Today, as she takes her first solo drive in the car, the rope of our mother/daughter bond, is getting stretched a little further, once again. And to me, as her loving mother, that feels wonderful and terrible, exhilarating and horrifying, all at the same time. And even though I will do my very best to try to hide my feelings, I know that she will feel them and soak them all in, along with her own mix of pulsating feelings. My daughter, my youngest child, will once again, use all of the strength and determination in her, that she has developed along the way of her childhood path, to be the fabulous, energetic exclamation point to all our family’s adventures in parenting. And I will be in the background, smiling wildly, while quietly, blinking back some tears.