Essential Baby blogger Kylie Orr
Much has been written about birth order. Each position in the family lures their own liturgy of labels: Eldest are seen as sensitive, responsible and protective; Middle Children are often competitive, long for belonging, have a strong sense of social justice, and can be the class clowns; Youngest: the carefree and spoilt ones.
Michael Grose, author and teacher has written a book about birth order. He describes the first born as follows:
"A first born child is in a revered but somewhat difficult position in his or her family. They are often burdened by exceedingly high parental expectations particularly if they are boys. For a time they are only children who gain undivided attention from their parents and even grandparents. Their every move is under scrutiny.
The first born position is almost regal and worth preserving. The arrival of a second alters this idyllic situation so first borns often spend a great deal of their time and energy demonstrating their ascendency over others. "Look mum he's being naughty again" is often the first borns anthem as they go to great lengths to show parents how much better than younger siblings they can be."
(Read more about this extract here.)
My first born is a textbook case but I fear I have created my own monster. He is the classic sensitive, protective older brother. Shows great empathy and responsibility; he likes to do the right thing. He also has moments where he can?t quite understand why the world doesn?t revolve around him. When he was a toddler, we used to read him up to forty books a day. Yes, I said forty. 4-0. It didn?t seem over the top at the time. He was our only child, I have an English Major and love reading, and he was obsessed with books. Each time he skipped in with a book, and said in a gorgeous sing-songy way ?please read?, I felt I couldn?t say no. It was a book for heaven?s sake! Had he been asking me for a 40th beer, perhaps I would have pulled the reigns. My husband ended up enforcing a quota of five books at one sitting, just so we could regain some control over our lives.
All my social interactions were with mums who had children of a similar age. We could engage in activities that were age appropriate and compare notes on our children?s development.
Enter child number two. Books? Ha! He?s lucky if he could recognise one in a library. OK, that?s an exaggeration. Of course we read to him too, but 40 books a day seems outrageous. A few at bedtime and perhaps a random one or two throughout the day, if we have a spare minute to sit still for the duration of a story.
His friends? He gets the default siblings of his older brother?s friends' because these are the social networks I already had in place when he arrived. I had to make a concerted effort to set up some individual ?play dates? for him so he could actually feel he had some friends of his own.
Sharing is something he has had to contend with since birth. His entire existence has been a shared one - everything divided with his older brother: attention, toys, even his room. Taking it in turns is a reality whether he likes it or not. He doesn't actually know what it's like to have the world exclusively, to have two parents at his beck and call and all the toys available to him and him alone. He knows no different which probably means sharing comes more naturally to him.
He?s strong, resilient and a tad defiant so I figure he won?t read too much into it and no doubt get over the drawbacks of being a second born when he becomes a criminal lawyer. That, or he?ll be spending a truckload of money in therapy when he?s older and possibly sending the bill to me. In trumps Middle Child Syndrome. I don?t want to talk about him for too long, because this is the first born's gig.
A recent example highlighted my first born's self-centredness. During the school holidays, we met up with one of his school friends. We had a nice picnic in the park and a solid two hours play. The afternoon involved another visit to a friend from his kinder who we hadn?t seen in a while. A whole day devoted to my first born. That evening, we were meeting an interstate friend of mine who I've known for 21 years. It had been too long between visits and I was very much looking forward to catching up. When I mentioned it to my first born, he replied ?I don?t want to go.? I had a tantrum. A full-blown adult tantrum, coupled with one of those mum-lectures where you just keep spouting off, even when you know your child has agreed to everything you?ve said ten seconds into the ear bashing. It went something like??We have spent ALL day doing things FOR YOU. This is something we are doing FOR ME. It?s not all about you. Sometimes you have to do things that are boring, just like I did this morning FOR YOU so YOU could play in a park for hours on end with YOUR friend??
It dawned on me that I had made this rod. I had made his life and ours, all about him. It wasn't intentional, it just was. He was our first child, dearly loved and adored, new and unknown, fresh and green, amazing and fascinating, the ultimate time waster. Our second born was equally loved and adored, and although a new person to us, we were old hands at this parenting thing and we had another child to split our time.
Position, position, position doesn't define you but it goes a long way to explaining characteristics. Some blame needs to fall on us though as we set ourselves up for many mum-lectures about how the world isn't all about them, when that's the world we have created. Or maybe, they are simply being kids?
Better go and feed my youngest another chocolate teddy bear biscuit for dinner. Because he wanted it. Spoilt? Never. Neglected? Maybe!
Does your child/ren fit their position stereotype? Is your firstborn self-centered or simply being a kid? Comment on Kylie's blog here.
Read other Kylie Orr blogs.
