I am the oldest child in my family. I think this is a tough position for a kid. Your parents are clueless (though you don’t know this until you have your own kids) and are experimenting with you. And, when you, the oldest child grow up and have your own kids, you, too, find yourself clueless and playing the grown-up. We mangled our way through “sleeping through the night,” “sharing with others,” and the dreaded “potty training.” We learned a lot and poor Dan bears the scars of the oldest child.
But . . . what about when that oldest child is 16-going-on-17? I don’t know about you, but for me (and Mike) that was the age of some big screw-ups. (Sorry, Mom and Dad.) Danny is following in the family tradition. He’s still a good kid and everyone’s pets are safe. He’s just stupid and acting his age. But, gah! Who knew it could be so hard and heartbreaking and exhausting? Certainly not me. If you’re the praying sort, Dan could use some uplifitng. He’s more tired and worn out than Mike and I are. And Mike and I are fried!
Who among you would relive your teenage years – the real years, not the good memories? (And, no, you can’t go back to those years knowing what you know now! That’s cheating!) You could NOT pay me enough to be 16-going-on-17 again. Dan will be fine. He’ll be unhappy for a few good weeks, but he’ll be fine, we’ll be fine as a family. Now, we only have to live through this three more times! It’ll be like potty training, right? Easier with each kid? (It’s ok to lie here and tell me yes.)