A few weeks ago, before my mom stopped talking to me for some reason, she sent me, my sister, and our baby brother this.
To which I respond:
And D responds something the lines of:
and by the time the third one shows up they just give him what he wants to shut him up.
Which is exactly what our parents did.
My whole life my mom said things to me like:
You're so strange.
You're such a bitch.
You're so weird.
To me, being strange and weird is something I've always worn as a badge of honor. Don't get me wrong, I wanted friends in Elementary school. But, 2nd through my first time through 5th grade was especially tough for me.
Mom had worked so hard to be able to afford a Section 8 supported apartment in the right corner of Fayetteville Arkansas to make sure that I went to one of the best schools in the region. In many ways, this one act shaped the rest of my life.
The elementary school that I went to still touts their “high standard" of deliverable education to this day. It's just a shame that the cost of it is extreme classism, and physical along with psychological abuse.
Anyway, because of my time served within the walls of that school, my Oldest Child Syndrome is stronger than most.
It's a fact: Like the first pancake, I'm a bit weird. I find solace in my individuality, and I encourage it in others.
But, I'm also a tough nut.
I have a type-A extroverted personality with OCD. I also have a need for me time and private time. Now, I don’t mean that I have OCD in the way that most people have it.
I'm OCD about xyz.
What I mean is that my bed must be made every morning. I brush my teeth several times a day. Bleach is banned from mu house- unless someone or something flips my bitch switch. Televisions and Mirrors are not, under any circumstances, allowed in my room. Books have to line up on the shelf perfectly. I'm overly obsessive about my garden. Finding typos makes my brain itch. All fans have to be clean. If there is any sight of dust on them, they must be cleaned before turned on.
The list goes on. I'm not OCD about certain things. My OCD manifests itself in nearly every aspect of my life.
I'm controlling and protective. I'm allowed to pick on my nieces and nephews, piss my sister off, and torture my baby brother. I'm allowed to irritate my husband, pick a fight with him, and generally mess with him. I'm allowed to irritate and discipline my dog.
When I was 16 my mom married Tim. She was married to him for about 10 years. It's a long story. He had 2 boys and a girl.
I reigned as the oldest still. My stepbrothers were bigger than me which made no difference because my younger sister and all of my cousins were bigger than me. I basically grew up with runt syndrome compounding the oldest child issue.
When the step brothers tried to pick on Sis or D, I puffed up. I'm short. It was necessary. When my 6’5" 250 pound stepfather body slammed my mom into a closet the first time, I got my 6 year old brother out of the house. I returned with a baseball bat ready for battle.
When he put hands on my kid brother the first time a few years later, I jumped over the dinner table.
My mother has a deeply engrained fear of being alone. So, in these situations she allowed her fear to drive her to behave contrary to the best interests of her children.
But, don't misunderstand. My mom was capable of brutality as well. When I was 14 she shoved me down a flight of stairs for coming out of my bedroom too early in the day.
D's father made her miserable. So, whenever the world compounded that misery in the slightest she took her anger, and frustration out on me.
I built up some seriously unhealthy resentment, and daddy issues when my father came to remove D from the eyeline of the psycho, but not me- his daughter.
Daddio raised her. Mommy dearest raised me and D. D is product of Mothers second marriage. Her third marriage created a brady bunch scenario. 2 years separate me and sis. 10 years separate me and D.
Make sense?
Scott is the youngest of 4 children. His parents are 73. They're Lead Gen Boomers. They had their first two kids – a girl then a boy. Ten years later, they had their youngest 2- a girl then a boy
Scott's two oldest siblings are Gen-X while he and his second sister are Millennials like me and my siblings.
He's clean and tidy but tends not to clean his whiskers off of the bathroom sink. His oldest sister is in charge, but the second sister has a hint of oldest child syndrome as well. They years that separate the two sets of siblings allowed the younger girl to be a big sister to Scott without always having her older siblings around at the same time.
I tend to clash with the younger of the sisters. Being of the same generation, it tends to get under my skin when she tries to treat me the way she treats Scott. In the minds of his family Scott is the baby. By virtue, I'm part of that concept.
Integrating into his family took some time, and I'm still working on it. Where my family is concerned, I'm the big sis. I'm the one D calls when he needs advice on how to handle a savings account. I'm the one who was responsible for my siblings and cousins growing up.
Along with being the oldest among my siblings, I'm also the oldest among my cousins. In my family, this means that I'm responsible for my cousins. If they get into trouble or get hurt, it's my fault for not protecting them.
On the other hand, Scott has a life vest where his family are concerned. He's the baby, so he's always had the luxury of being allowed to mess up, not having to work as hard for his parents attention, and when he needs help he calls his oldest sister for advice.
As the oldest child I didn't grow up with that. Plus, I'm smaller than my younger sister so I got her hand-me-downs rather than the reverse. It wasn't until very recently that me and my sister began depending upon each other in a more substantial way.
My mom had a 6 by-pass in 2013 so my sister and I have gravitated towards depending on each other. Like our brother, when I left home I left the state. In fact, my sister is the only one of my Mothers children to stay in Arkansas.
She's also the only one of us who will ever likely have children. This has created and interesting phenomenon where Sis has taken some of the responsibility of the oldest child because she's the only one who can help mom.
That being said, she didn't spend much time around our mother growing up. This is especially true when mom was in her manic states. So, sis calls me a lot to get advice on how to deal with mother.
Conversely in Scott's family, when his father had a 4- bypass two weeks ago, it was his oldest sister and brother who spent their time at the hospital, talking to the doctors, and helping their mom set up Tony's after surgery care.
Scotts older brother and family live near Chicago. We're in Raleigh. He took a late flight in to be with their father the night before the surgery. He and his wife also stayed well after the surgery to help all of us catch up on things that tend to fall through the cracks. So, that was pretty awesome.
Granted, it's me and Scott who are here, in his parents house, managing the garden, weeds, lightbulbs, fuse boxes, vacuuming, pest control, dishes, dinner and whatever else we can help with. However, that's more from my sense of responsibility than his.
In Scott's mind, our presence to help when asked is all that's necessary because in his family and mine that's all that has ever been required of the family baby. However, the care and health of my family has been my responsibility for so long that I'm not content to leave it at that.
The relationship that Scott and I have has been mocked by his family, mine, and our friends.
See, Scott wants to be the domestic partner. I'd rather not be a housewife. Cooking is my love language and it's relaxing for me, but I'd rather shovel pig shit than vacuum, dust, or fold the laundry.
We bonded over our mutual love for anything bladed. I'm protective and he's passive. I'm quicker to jump to his defense than he is to mine.
I'm not saying that I didn't get enough love growing up. After all, I am the oldest grandchild which means my grandparents favored and spoiled me. But, I have a fear of instability with a need to be to one to provide for everyone else. Because I'm also a woman, and so by nature I'm contrary, I also have a need to see more and travel. After a while in one place I get really restless.
So, since my husband wants to be the domestic, I want that for him. He's a calming and steady influence for me. Discord, and imbalance bothers him because he was sheltered from it as a child. Don't get me wrong. He's also a disabled vet.
So, basically what you get when child syndromes mix is a partnership that tends to stand out from those of our friends and respective families. Our friends and families don't understand how Scott and I work so well.
But then again, they don’t really need to.
