I had a date this evening with an incredibly handsome young man. He’s a little shorter than 4 feet, has dirty blond hair, and these blue eyes surrounded by the most amazing (girls are jealous because they need mascara to get these) eyelashes. I even told my husband about the date. He was jealous, but he let this young charmer spend the time with me.
My youngest was sick yesterday with a little stomach virus (no, not the norovirus). We spent the whole day together. Still, evening came and the boys were tucked into bed. A few minutes later I heard the footsteps coming down the hallway. Ah, my youngest, with tears streaming down his face. He claimed to still be sick (he was using some of those brains in a most manipulative way). After some deep conversation, the problem was identified. He wanted more time with Mommy-without the big brother making the choices. Ah, the root of the issue.
Birth order impacts each person greatly over the course of their lives. When my hubby and I were gearing up to get married we attended premarital counseling. It was awesome. Part of it was to explore our families of origin and how they would impact the family that we were building. You learn a lot when you look at your family objectively and identify the “roles” you are assigned. Part of this process helped discover that as a middle child, I knew I would prefer to only have two children. I also discovered a goal created from being a second child because I know what it’s like to live in the shadow of the older sibling.
There are very few pictures of me as a child. My interests were echoes of my older sibling’s choices. My schedule was often dictated by my older sibling’s many because he started his stuff before I did. Age trumped beauty, I like to think. 😉
Anyhoo, I knew I would not let my second child wonder where were all his pictures. No, I do not harbor deep feelings of anger toward my folks. Actually, I tease my mother about it. At least I hope she knows I’m teasing. But I am intentional in my efforts to level the playing field. Still, my youngest is beginning to express his discontent about the rank of his big bro. Big brothers do tend to boss the younger ones around. It happens rather naturally. But I believe in nature and nurture.
Tonight’s date included his choice of movie and no big brother. Big brother was eventually invited to join us and then nature stepped in the picture. We were watching School House Rock (oh, yeah, Mom was pleased with the choice) and the oldest was trying to tell his brother which one to pick next. I’m sure you can guess the drama that followed.
Older brother really didn’t like not being the one to make the choices. He burst into tears because “it’s not about me.” He was quite troubled by someone else being in control. The younger brother was delirious with the power. Pinching was involved. Parental speeches that echoed the speeches of Mike and Carol were delivered. Hugs were given. This was the first step on the road to a more balanced control of power between the brothers. It will take many steps. And many more Brady Bunch speeches.
All this generated an interesting declaration at bedtime. The oldest stated that dad must be the boss of mom, mom the boss of oldest son, and oldest son boss of youngest son. Whoa. I quickly corrected him that Dad is not the boss of Mom. That husbands and wives are partners. And siblings are not bosses of each other, not are they their keepers. The complexity of relationships will be explored for decades by these boys. Of course, their mom is still working on relationships. That’s the best thing I could teach them about relationships. They always change and you never become a master at them. You always work at them and sometimes they are beyond your control. The only control you sometimes have is to let go of them as gracefully as you can. And even then you’ll stumble.
Date night. Way more than I expected.
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