The Oldest

Alyssa and I were talking this morning about her older sister and brothers.

Olivia pointed out that the pants I’d laid out for her to wear this morning before changing into her school clothes after lunch had a whole in them. (What? Yes, she wears two different outfits every single day. Tom can’t stand for her to wear her school clothes during breakfast, snack and lunch and Olivia can’t stand to be wearing pajamas while the rest of us are dressed by 7am, so yes, that makes for extra laundry but also less whining on the O’s and T’s part and I’ll take the laundry over the whining any day. So…yes.)

I told her to tell her daddy to throw them away when she changed into her school clothes. I said we can’t very well send holey clothes to G, who is A’s and O’s niece, the daughter of their oldest brother, J.

Alyssa thought about the fact that she has a niece and several nephews. After a few moments, she asked me, “Am I still kind of the oldest here?”

I told her that yes, she’s definitely growing up as the oldest, firstborn child. How can she not? It’s just her and Olivia in our home.

I told her that even if either of her brothers or sister had lived with us when she was younger, it wouldn’t have seemed like they were siblings so much as maybe more like uncles and an aunt.

It’s one of the things about having widely spaced kids.

I am four years older than my brother J and thirteen years older than my brother M. M is actually only two months older than my oldest step-son. Put another way, Alyssa’s oldest brother is only two months younger than her youngest uncle.

So yes, she’s definitely growing up at the oldest, firstborn child. And wow does she have the traits of a firstborn.

Bossy…yep, that’s my firstborn. It doesn’t matter one tiny bit that she’s Tom’s fourth born.

Structured…oh yes, this girl loves rules. She loves schedules, always has.

Conscientious…she’s very aware of the feelings of others. I’ve often noticed that her moods are very much determined by my own. Sigh. This is something I really need to work on. I know that the happier, more cheerful I am, the happier, more cheerful my girl will be.

Achiever…she loves being good at things. She loves accomplishing goals and then setting even bigger ones.

A pleaser…this is one of my biggest concerns as a firstborn myself. I always wanted everyone to be happy. Alyssa is so much like me and I hate that she’s taking on this responsibility. I don’t want the weight of the world’s happiness to rest on her shoulders.

A funny thing about my oldest child is that most of her friends are the babies of their family. I wonder if she’s drawn to these people because she can lead them, nurture them, teach them and yes, even baby them.

The joy on her face this morning when I told her she’d definitely growing up as the oldest child made me laugh inside. Leave it to us firstborns to take pride in our birth order. Like we had any say in it at all.