I’m the youngest. My kids are the youngest. My parents have 9 grandkids. My in-law has my 3.
For my nephew, my 1st biological nephew (or niece) had it all. On his 1st day of preschool, there were more than 10 people at his school to pick him up that first day (grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins). Owen’s the youngest of mine. His 1st day of preschool? Just Mommy saw him off.
Cole has over 2,000 dollars in savings. Owen has 40 dollars in savings.
Call it being a mom, but I feel so bad for this kid. He can fondly look back to his youth when he’s older and remember that he was lucky to have Daddy even take off work to see him in preschool and everyone else just seemed too busy. Cole can fondly look back and remember seeing a sea of his family in the audience as he stood on stage graduating. /
I know no one else sees this as a problem but call it being the baby in MY family that evokes great emotion of feeling a need to have the same encouragement and love that his older brothers had.
My parents are good. We’re lucky they live super nearby. They are generally always available and excited to see any kid do any thing. My dad (Papa) even got to do “Donuts with Dad” because Tom had jury duty and couldn’t go. They make sure they are always around for birthdays even if we dont plan on doing anything.
This is my plea to all those who read this post.
Don’t forget kid #3 (or higher). Each kid’s achievements are just as important as the 1st ( the 1st kid, the 1st grandchild, the 1st niece/nephew…). Remember to take meaningless pictures of kid #3 just like you did for #1 and make them a scrapbook because odds are, you didnt get around to doing this kid’s book. Keep mementos and let them know they were/are just as important as the others. Remember to stick up for the youngest kid, the older ones like to manipulate them, experiment on/with them, and use them as a slave.
