By Beck
The Baby just returned from a walk with her Papa and my cousin Ben, chocolate bar in hand. It is 10:30 in the morning.
“You bought her a chocolate bar?” I asked my dad, a bit incredulously.
“I had to,” he said. “She cried about it.”
“Yep,” said The Baby, happily eating her chocolate. “I did do that.”
And there is the difference between one’s firstborn child – so agonizingly well-behaved! – and one’s third and final kid. My Baby is a charming, clever kid and also TOTALLY, hilariously spoiled. I would do something about it, but I used up all of my parenting energy on the first two and also she’s my BABY and all. This is why history is full of famous first-borns and why very few last-born kids become Secretary General of the United Nations – their character is spoiled early on by their weary parents (or their gullible grandparents) sighing and buying them candy all the time.
I was also TERRIFIED of my first-born kid coming to physical harm – I still remember the first time she got hurt, the shock of blood on her toddler lip, which I certainly do NOT remember with The Baby. By the time my youngest came along, we’d already been through several rounds of stitches, x-rays on possibly broken limbs, and bruises and scrapes galore and so I either had to get more relaxed about minor childhood bumps or LOSE MY MIND. And so The Baby is allowed to scamper up the slide at the park without me spotting her every move, is allowed to ride a bike around the yard, allowed to climb up the low rocks while her older siblings had me cautioning them all the time, the poor things.
The truth is that I did not think that my youngest would survive infancy. She was so very, very sick.
But she did.
And now she is strong and willful and loud-voiced and will climb any tree with a chocolate bar stuffed in the pocket of her dress (always, always a dress), and her long tangled hair blows in the wind as she looks around, sure and brave and fearless. “No,” I say to her, but my heart is full of yes, secretly urging her on to run, secretly urging her on to fill up all of life with her clarion voice, the sure sound of her, bad and vivid and alive.
Oh! Lovely.
However, as a first born, I gotta say, I resent that Baby and her happy spoiledness! It was my hard work (whining and crying and lobbying fruitlessly for a later bedtime) that paved the way for her carefree lifestyle! And all I’ve got to show for it is this type A hyper success.
😉
I love this post, too. (Referring to your tweet about it.)
I’m a firstborn and I try to cut my oldest some slack, remembering how vigilant my mother was at keeping me from harm. Yes, I made good grades and am an excellent employee, but I’m also terrified of risk and failure, or of disapproval (something the Baby won’t have a problem with, it seems).
When my brother, the baby of our family, was at the grocery store with my grandfather (who was a notorious tightwad), he said craftily, “If *I* was the Papaw and *you* were the grandson, I’d buy you a candy bar.” My grandfather laughed and gave in. I was amazed–I never would have asked.
I’m with mimi, as a firstborn. 🙂
But I also find it somewhat amusing how much you revel in The Baby’s badness. I thought I was perhaps the only mama who finds my child’s strong will to be a good thing.
Hmmm….you didn’t talk about your poor, unloved son…
And my youngest was heard telling her next-oldest sister, “You have to give it to me, or I’ll be crying.”
And all I could think of here is what a gift from God it is that a child who is on a gluten-free diet gets to eat chocolate bars!
It’s a lovely post, enjoyed very much by this youngest child. Mine went the other way though. My parents were pretty loose with the oldest two, who got themselves into all sorts of teenage trouble. The rules had increased ten-fold for me, outlined in great detail. So it can go that way too! :0)
Wow, I love this post. I’m a middle child, someone who grew up incredibly Type A and resentful of my do-no-wrong older brother, and a bit resentful of my much younger and indulged brother. Yes, I’m awesome.
My kids were born so close together – thankfully for my older child, or I would have analyzed him to death – that I actually became much less relaxed after having two. Still Type A, but more relaxed.
My husband and I are both the youngest, and are often by the eldest. How come he’s so well behaved? How come he loves rules so much? Why doesn’t he just chill out a little? He’s a fabulous kid, but he’s a smidge alien to me.
GAH! Missed vital word in first sentence of last comment. Try this: My husband and I are both the youngest, and are often BEFUDDLED by the eldest.
I’m sure she survived as a baby BECAUSE she is so strong willed and determined. Isn’t that wonderful? 🙂
Beautiful post. Again. 🙂
This is a neat perspective. 🙂 I’m expecting my 2nd, and even with just being pregnant, I’m starting to spoil my oldest a little – he only has a few more months of being my ‘baby’, after all. 🙂
So many blogging firstborns! I am one, too.
I’ve thought each of my kids after #4 was my last, so they are progressively more spoiled and more daring. That is a dangerous combination. It’s fun to watch the younger kiddos thrive and embrace life like it’s all chocolate-dipped.
Beautiful post indeed. I am also a first born now expecting my second child. A few days ago, I had that lovely conversation with my youngest about how he’d soon have a sister to play with. Then, ironically, I just came across this YOU TUBE video a few hours ago- which made me think of my situation in a whole new light! Any mom who has had the “your going to have a new sibling” conversation with their little ones should appreciate this! I think it is actually a commercial for LUVS diaper brand but you’d never know from the content – especially the title lol. Hope you all laugh as hard as I did!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iURGJpoEcn0
So far, I’ve held pretty firm with both boys when it comes to stuff like this; let them sob and shed crocodile tears… no means no.
I hope I can hold out with the last one!
I am the middle and am the most daring of the three. But my younger sister was definitely the spoiled baby. Still is! She admits it, too.
My own 3rd is definitely indulged too much, but I also adore her spitfire, wild and free attitude. Though she scares me when she tries to COOK food without asking (she’s only THREE).
so beautiful! your youngest will be the strongest and most independent. Be proud of her every defiance and cheekiness
It’s funny, because as a last-born, I’ve been thinking recently about what an advantage it is. We’re confident, not afraid to ask for what we want, and don’t require others’ approval — THAT seems like a recipe for success to me. Although chances are maybe that a last-born’s version of success probably isn’t as head of a hierarchy. And for all the first-borns, I’m grateful to my siblings for paving the way. I know I got a pretty sweet deal, and I don’t take it for granted.
Yes, clever title indeed.
I would say the Baby and my 3rd should get together for a playdate over the miles, but I have a feeling one or both would end up needing some more of those stitches you mentioned. 🙂
Veruca salt and light! HAH!
I’m the baby and I think I turned out delightfully! 😉
Lovely Bec! She is going to fill up, to run, to take life and squeeze every last drop of joy from it!
My baby is willful and loud and kinda mean. And adorable and charming AND (if it makes you feel any better) seems to be winning the battle of the wills DESPITE my efforts to not slack off on parenting just because she is #4. This post was absofreakin gorgeous, by the way.