A couple of years ago, I was bracing for my oldest to finish his final year in elementary school and head off to middle school.
I had a lot of concern that he would have a hard time acclimating, or not be able to handle the workload, or get picked on, and the list went on and on. Spoiler alert: He did just fine.
READ: Hello Summer, Goodbye Elementary School!
In fact, my oldest has thrived in his first two years of middle school and will soon be in 8th grade. The evolution of my oldest from little kid to big kid has been fun, but now it’s time to panic about the little brother heading off to middle school, and that was something I wasn’t expecting, since we’ve already been down this road.
Now I have a whole new set of concerns and anxiety, and I ask myself why I feel this way when I know things will turn out fine, but there’s something about the baby of the family that hits a little differently. He protests loudly that he is most definitely ready, and this comes with a whole new list of demands for freedom that he wants, just like his big brother gets.
The second-born, the baby of the family, is much more assertive and louder about the injustice of what he can and can’t do compared to his big brother. He’s feisty and fierce and is not afraid to speak his mind, which is what I love the most about him, but it’s also where the worry comes from.
I worry that, as the second-born, he just “thinks” he’s ready, and he HATES it when I tell him it’s because his brother is two years older than him. Then I think to myself, maybe I do need to ease up a little bit, but I can’t figure out where to back off and where to absolutely stand my ground. This parenting thing gets tougher the older they get.
I can’t help but parent them differently because there is a distinct difference between a first-born child and a second-born child’s personality. The first-born naturally falls into that leadership role. The second-born, somewhat of a rebel, protests loudly of injustice and cries out FAVORITISM.
He wants to cross the street alone, he wants to ride his bike alone, he wants me to trust him to be alone, but I won’t let him do these things because the oldest is the FAVORITE.
Favorite, favorite, favorite… that’s all I hear. As the oldest sibling myself, I roll my eyes behind his back (are you even a parent if you don’t roll your eyes behind your kids’ backs?) because there are no favorites, only a completely different set of pressures that the oldest has to endure, and that’s just a whole other topic in itself that the second-born would never understand. All I can do is listen and try to explain that as parents, we have no favorites, but do they ever believe you? No way.
However, crossing the street and riding bikes alone are things I would only allow if his big brother were with him, but now it’s time for him to do the same things his big brother did at his age.
He’s never proven himself untrustworthy; he’s always been honest, but here I am not able to let go of that grip. I don’t have a favorite, but maybe he has a point? Perception is key here, and maybe, just maybe, I need to let go a little.
Will he stay on top of his work like his brother does? Will he stay out of trouble like his brother does? Will he make good decisions and not get caught up in drama? It’s hard not to compare, but his brother is all I have to go on, and maybe that’s why younger siblings think the oldest siblings are the favorite. Parents fall into the comparison trap, and it’s hard not to. We’re all just out here winging it, trying our best.
I know it will be fine. I’m about to watch my second-born evolve into an independent, responsible big kid, just like his big brother did. I will try my hardest not to compare his experience to his brother’s, and I think that is the real challenge in parenting. You must change your parenting style as they evolve into their own, while finding a balance that still keeps them safe.
So, this summer it’s another hope and a prayer and a Hail Mary that we will all survive as a middle school house, and just as I’ll be adjusting to having two middle schoolers, it will then be time to start a new worry —HIGH SCHOOL. We’ll save that for next year, though.
Hello summer, goodbye elementary school — and this time it’s for good. It feels so final, and maybe that’s why I’m having a hard time letting go. The baby is leaving elementary school; it is really the end of an era.
My boys attended the same elementary school that I went to. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that would happen, so maybe the next era will be that I am lucky enough to watch my grandkids walk the same halls of our beloved elementary school. You never know.
For now, it’s on to bigger things. Ready or not, we’re off to middle school, again.
