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NO ONE LIKES AN ONLY CHILD

by : Amanda Seemann

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| would hate to be an only
child! | cannot imagine a worse
childhood than one filled with
sleepovers dominated by the strange
rules of another household and the
repercussions of mistakes you could
not blame on your siblings.
Families with a single child not only
miss out on built-in babysitters and
boxing coaches, they miss out on the
dynamics of many children bouncing
ideas, and bodies, off one another.
The most significant events in my
childhood were my four siblings, as
growing up in a large family molded
me into a very well adjusted person
and far more confident adult.
There were definite challenges —
the toilet was perpetually occupied,
someone or something was always
missing, and dinner time was a battle
field.
Growing up in a large household
filled my childhood with humor,
caring, and the integral belief that
| can do anything regardless of the
obstacles placed in my way.

When you always have someone to laugh at, and someone always
there to laugh at you, it’s inevitable that you learn that laughter
is a form of appreciation. Laughter is not judgement. Laughter
is not a stranger's demeaning reaction to your folly. Growing
up with a household of loving critics in the form of immediate
relatives teaches you that taking equal enjoyment in someone
else's failures, as you do in their successes, is a natural part of
intimate human interaction. When my baby sister, Brooklyn, was
about five years old, she would use her middle finger to point at
anything and everything. True to the loving siblings we were, we
filled our afternoons with questions such as, “Brooklyn, where do
planes fly?” to which she would flip the proverbial finger to the
entire family. The amusement our family shared at this adorable
quirk was endless. Not only did | learn that sharing vulnerability
and humor strengthens bonds, | learned that — in the most cliché
adaptation of phrases — sharing is caring.

Furthermore, caring is putting another’s needs above your own.
As previously mentioned, having siblings to blame mistakes and
poor ideas on is a wonderful childhood tool. But the real magic
is when a sibling chooses to take the blame for you. That is true
caring. There is nothing scarier than admitting to a tiger mother
that your Tarzan recreation has resulted in a $50 repair bill and
one more task on your fathers “To Do’ list. As a young acrobat,
| relished in the opportune moments when my parents were
not home to scold me for swinging on the staircase banister.
One fateful night, my oldest sibling and only brother had been
tasked with watching the zoo of younger sisters he had inherited.
the zoo started its first acrobatic performance; | mounted the