To my firstborn son:
In just a few months, Lord-willing, you will have a baby sister! We are all excited for her arrival, and we’ve been letting you watch season 5 of Daniel Tiger on repeat so that you’ll be good and prepared when she comes.
But of course, nothing can truly prepare you to become an older sibling. I know because I was your age when we welcomed my younger brother to the family. Although I may not have clear memories of those early days, I’ve had plenty of time to adjust learn what it means to be the oldest child.
For the record: as your mother, I will not be taking sides based on birth order in any sibling disputes. Moms are neutral parties! However, as a fellow firstborn, I do feel it’s my duty to let you in on a few secrets about firstborn life.
First, there are some perks to being the oldest child. For instance, you can continue to eat yummy treats like pizza and cake while your baby sister waits to grow real teeth; you never have to use hand-me-down toys or clothes; you get to be the first to do all the fun things (drive! go to college! date! … when you’re 30); and you will never have to hear a teacher say, “Oh, are you so-and-so’s sibling?”
But there are some hard things you must learn. For one, you’re going to have to start sharing. After having most everything to yourself, you now have to share your parents, your grandparents, your stuff and even your time. Learning to share can be rough, especially because many younger siblings are masters at discerning the exact moment when you would least like to share. One minute you’ll be playing quietly with your toys or telling an important story to your mom, and the next minute a small hurricane will appear and destroy everything in its path or fake a MAJOR EMERGENCY requiring parental attention.
Here’s an insider tip: younger siblings often interfere with your time or things because they secretly think you’re cool. (They’ll deny it to your face, of course, so you’ll have to trust me.) So, if you can embrace the whole sharing concept, you might just gain a built-in companion for a few of your own interests. I actually convinced my brother to “share” my love of learning through hours upon hours of pretend school – with me as his teacher — before he ever went to kindergarten. It was great preparation for my future teaching career, and he can now thank me for all of his book smarts! Win, win. (Notice I did not say I was being “bossy” … I said I was “sharing”…)
You are now “the oldest, and you know better.” If I had a quarter for every time I heard this phrase during my childhood, I would be a wealthy woman. While I’ll try not to say this to you, the spirit of the law still stands: sometimes you will carry an unequal share of responsibility, simply because you are the oldest. I didn’t know when I was seven that a white-out pen would ruin the handmade, wooden rocking chair my grandpa gave us — and I still hold that it was my brother’s idea to decorate it — but of course, I took the brunt of the punishment for that particular incident. Somehow, firstborns seem to carry around a heavier weight of expectation and responsibility. You can either cope with this truth by running to perfectionism or rebellion, or you can learn to accept it as a gift – one that just might help your chances of someday becoming a CEO.
Plus, if you give it some time, and if you survive these learning-to-share, hurricane-through-your-toys, taking-the-blame days, you may just discover that having a younger sibling is way better than you expected. My brother and I fought like crazy at times, but one day, I woke up and realized I had made a great friend – someone who shares both the fun and weird memories from our childhood, who is now bigger than me and has stuck up for me many times, and who has become a great uncle to you! He’s also gifted me an awesome sister-in-law as well.
I can’t guarantee you’ll have a perfectly easy transition into siblinghood, but I’m going to make you share your toys with your sister anyway. Perhaps you’ll eventually forgive me. If not, at least you’ll have a sibling who can commiserate about your awful, mean, unfair parents (who happen to love you both a whole lot).
Love and solidarity in firstbornness,
Mom
