I’m the youngest child in my family. Now, before I go on simply complaining about that fact, I would like to first express a couple points.
1. Yes, my parents were a little more lenient toward me than my older siblings.
2. Yes, I often received a lot of attention.
3. Yes, I’m sure they managed to spoil me more. (Although, I really think my parents always made a conscious effort to treat all three of us the same on this point…)
So here’s my beef. Besides the fact that the youngest child sometimes misses out on years of family traditions (i.e. your parents stop preparing stockings and Easter baskets whence the oldest child is too old for such time-honored traditions) and often reap less benefits by way of household chores (i.e. your mom decides, whilst your eldest sibling is a senior in high school and you are in your awkward teenage years of middle school, that she’s had enough and you are now responsible for doing your own laundry), they are also forever the youngster. The naïve one. The least wise.
No matter how old youngest siblings get, they are never quite as knowledgeable or experienced as the rest of their family. Never will be.
For the most part, I’ve come to terms with the fact that my thoughts will never be heard and/or respected as much as those of my older siblings. Instead of knowledge or passion, they often see opinion and emotion. New experiences to me, are always old hat to them. And, while friends and co-workers are able to see a wise professional/friend, my parents and siblings always just see their little sister. Their youngest child.
I know those born first, second, third or fourth (etc.) could probably talk, vent or complain about a plethora of things in relation to birthing order. And, I’m not sure exactly why I’m writing about this today. Perhaps just because of my recent birthday celebration and the thought of turning another year older… Staying forever young in the eyes of loved ones.
Are you the youngest sibling? If so, do you agree/disagree? (Maybe it’s just my circumstances…)