Today I was listening to a podcast I like when I heard something I didn’t like. They were talking about an amazing woman who has done so much good for her community, but they started it by saying she was the youngest of 12 children and made a comment about how little attention she must have received. Isn’t it so amazing that she’d grow up to become a woman of honor, of bravery, of conviction, of influence when she grew up in a home as the youngest of twelve?
I don’t find it surprising at all.
Sometimes I wonder what it must be like to be this 8th baby in this family I’m raising. What kind of ridiculous sense of self-worth and confidence would you have in the world to have this kind of upbringing? She is adored. ADORED. Every minute of every day. Her voice is heard and her needs are met. Although, not always be me.
I imagine that’s what’s confusing to people. How could a child who is the youngest of 12 (or the 8th of 8) get the parental attention every child obviously needs? The reality is that I do meet most of her needs. I feed her, I change her diapers and get her dressed about 95% of the time. If I’m in arms reach, she is usually in my arms. She has no doubt about how much I love her and she will ask for me when she wants me.
But there are times I am just not available. Someone needs homework help, or a ride to work, or they’ve had an injury, or dinner has to be made, or I’m in the bathroom. In those moments, this little lady has no shortage of people to love her and look after her. She feels safe with them and they fight over who gets to be the one to help her with whatever she needs.
She exists in a world where she has her own fan club. Her face is someone’s home screen on their school computer. If she does something brave, she gets a round of applause and her name is chanted. If she does something cute, it gets repeated and remembered by people who think she’s the best thing in the world. She knows no other life than having an entire community in her home that wants what’s best for her and will be available when she needs them. Every baby should be this loved.
I know this is true because I was the fourth of five kids. My mom (who is my parenting hero) was not always accessible to me. There was a younger sibling and she worked a job from home and there was a lot of laundry and older siblings needed her wisdom and also dinner had to get made. So I got to be loved by my big sister. It’s a gift I’m so thankful for to this day as she continues to be my friend and confidant. Having a parent that wasn’t always accessible meant I got to have a close relationship with a sibling and statistically speaking, that relationship will outlive the one I could have with my mom, even under the best circumstances. Sibling relationships matter. Knowing my big sister (who was beautiful and smart and kind) thought I was precious gave me a confidence to be brave and bold. I moved in the world as someone worth loving because I had a whole team of siblings at home that loved me. Very little outside of my home could undo the value that had been instilled in me by having a large family that loved me.
Of course not all large families are created equal. There are kids who will slip through the cracks and parents who add more kids to their family than they can actually care for. That’s a tragedy and it gives large families a bad reputation. But I don’t think it’s the norm of how large families work. It’s been a joy to me to find out my kids’ pediatrician came from a large family, our veterinarian came from a large family, the judge who has done three of our adoptions came from a large family, our neighbor (who is a medical professional and mom of five) came from a large family, as have so many other people who support our family because they know large family life can be tough, but it’s also pretty special.
I say none of this to disparage small families or only children, just to provide some balance to the narrative that kids in large family get forgotten. How could they? There is always somebody there waiting to play with you, listen to you, cause you grief. . . I mean CHALLENGE YOU TO GROW, and cheer you on. We shouldn’t be surprised when those kids grow up to accomplish great things in the world. From their very earliest days, they learned that their voice mattered, their accomplishments were important, and they had the support of a team of siblings who thought they were the greatest.