There aren’t any rules about who gets to have kids and who doesn’t, and I guess that’s just as well, though we all know people who should have been steered toward hamsters instead. But let it also be said that every now and then the very best people become the best parents and might even have the best ingredients on hand when they’re whomping up the little buggers. Like, maybe the chile is a gift to the whole world. Like, is it possible the new arrival will descend on a golden cloud with pudgy arms raised in benediction? Because we could use something like that right now.
That’s sure how we felt when our friends’ first baby rolled off the assembly line. We couldn’t imagine a luckier child, and more than the usual effort had gone into his production. And now he has a baby brother. The docs said his mother was already “geriatric” for the first one, which seems rude and, as far as I can tell, means “over 26,” but the point is it can be a bit of a challenge to seal the deal in these cases. Which makes this new one a plumb miracle. Oh, sure, lots of people refer to all babies as miracles, but just between you and me, some of them are a little disappointing, Lord And Savior-wise.
Haven’t sent him a thing. Big brother’s old clothes should work–he doodled in them, but they have a washing machine. They’ll give him a name at some point. We should probably send him something cute. Any minute now. We should, but we probably won’t get around to it. He’s already got something his big brother will never have.
I’m the last of four children. Our parents were fairly strict. By the time I showed up (let’s not pretend there was any planning involved) they were old, too. They didn’t torment us with their visions for our future, but they definitely had standards for our behavior and were not remotely wheedleable. As a Brewster child, you might not get what you wanted, but you didn’t suffer over thinking you mighta coulda if you whined long enough.
So listen up, new little dude. Your big brother is pushing Three, and he may be all walking around upright like a genius tyrannosaur and everything, but at some point he’s going to do some things, some currently unimaginable things, that your parents are going to want to talk to him about. They’re going to want to talk to him about his choices and how what he does affects other people and ask what he really wants out of life, and with you? They’ll be all, Whatever.
We need a damn “like” button here. I got nothin’ to say, but I’d like to express my appreciation as a youngest.
Shoot, I'd settle for a "share" button, which I swore I put in once and now it's gone. I need a young wizard to spruce up my antique blog.
Share button there, darlin', in both web and mobile editions. (writing from Ruth's computer, but this is Mary Annoying [according to autocorrect].) Unfortunately I am not on facebook or any of those other social media, so won't personally share this. Others certainly can!
🙂 🙂 🙂
Another miracle to add to the 7 billion or so already here. Maybe he'll be the one to straighten everything out. There is always hope, little dude, so do what you can. We're rootin' for ya!
Can you imagine just being born now? Like, all of this is normal? I am blessed to be out of here in 30 years or fewer. (Likely much fewer)
You are right. Mind you, I am the youngest of us siblings but also the oldest (and only) of a new marriage. I got a bit from both sides of this equation.
And welcome to the new little dude.
Oh wait a minute, you mean you and your siblings have at least one different parent?
I too, am the last gasp of my parents. Number four, like your ineffable self, and I heartily endorse this message.
Pinkie fingers entwined, Simon!
I always thought you last born folks had it made. Still do. As Rosanne Rosanna-Danna used to say, "It' always something."
It's all true. I'm sure there is a significant downside to it, but I'll take it.
A big amen for us youngest. Sweet little ones here.
Aren't they to be adored? In a limited fashion, and not to spoil?
Those babies are soooo cute, just like a pair of brothers I know over here, aged three and one.
I wasn't the youngest, nor the oldest, but my older sister was born with slight brain damage and my younger brother had epilepsy, so I was left to my own devices A LOT, while mum ran herself ragged looking after those two.
Oh, dear. Looks like you escaped Middle Child Syndrome too.
Forever he can weasel out of chores by stating the oft-heard pronouncement in our household: "You do it. You were born first."
I cannot imagine THAT working EVER.
I was almost youngest (beat my twin brother by 15 minutes) but I was the only GIRL, and that got me a LOT of slack.
Sometimes that works the other way.
Nice welcome to the world. However, does anyone else find the messaging of the previous post and this one kind of a disturbing mix? Maybe disturbing isn't the right word, but it's something making me a little squimy and scratching my head. intentional? Always keepinug us on our toes. Kim in PA
That's the plan. Heh heh.
Those are the sweetest babies.