I keep thinking about how you quickly apologized when you knocked over the cereal this morning, and it tugs at my heart. I told you it was okay—it was just a mistake. I brushed it off, but your instinct to apologize makes me wonder: Have I placed these expectations on you as the firstborn?
Tomorrow morning, I plan to greet you with a warm hug. I promise to do better, to ease up on my expectations, and to remind myself you’re only 7. But deep down, I know that the moment something distracts me, I’ll slip back into old habits.
If you take your time getting ready for school, I’ll likely hurry you along. If your hair dips into your breakfast, I’ll probably sigh and tell you to tie it back. If you wander off during breakfast to read, I might snap at you. But if your little brother does the same? I’d let it slide—after all, he’s only 3. It’s not fair. In the grand scheme of things, 7 isn’t so far from 3. Yet, as the eldest, more is expected of you.
It’s unjust. I intend to change, and I’ll strive to do so. But I recognize this will be a long journey. When you were 3, just like your brother now, I had unrealistic expectations. You were the big sister, no longer a baby. Looking back, I see it was silly to expect so much. Your brother can meander during meals, help himself to snacks, and insists on dressing himself, no matter how long that takes. And he always gets the toy—well, he’s just a little one, after all. But when you were 3, I didn’t extend that same grace. I wanted you to be responsible, to follow instructions without fail.
When you turned 6, like your sister is now, I treated you as if you were grown. You were in school, articulate, able to grasp every instruction. When you struggled, I became frustrated. I didn’t understand your challenges. With your sister, I tread lightly. I prepare her for changes and celebrate her smooth transitions. Why didn’t I know to do that with you? My expectations were too high.
And I can already predict that when your sister and brother reach 7, I’ll have adjusted my expectations. I won’t see them as mature; I’ll recognize them as children still figuring things out. I need to grasp that now, not years down the line.
You are only 7, and being the eldest doesn’t mean you’re older than you are. You can be responsible—helping with your siblings, assisting with chores, picking your outfits. And you can also be playful—running around the table during breakfast, taking your time in the morning, letting your hair flow freely into your food. Of course, you can! You’re still a little girl, and I need to remember that. I don’t need to lower my expectations; instead, I should elevate my expectations of myself. I must remind myself to give you more hugs and tie your hair back for you in the mornings.
This journey is ongoing, but I’m committed to embracing your childhood while allowing you to flourish as the eldest.
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Summary:
This heartfelt reflection highlights the challenges and expectations often placed on firstborn children. It emphasizes the need for parents to recognize the unique pressures their oldest child faces while encouraging them to embrace their childhood. The author resolves to adjust their expectations and create a nurturing environment for their children, reminding themselves that it’s essential to allow room for play and growth.