I was looking through old posts here yesterday and came across this image. The boy had face-planted at school. I had to go get him. He was very upset when it happened, or so reported the school's nurse, but he had calmed down considerably by the time that I arrived. By the time we were home and I took this picture he had a very matter-of-fact attitude about the whole thing. I worry sometimes that the boy has grown up too quickly, always being around adults. There is the imaginary curse of being an only child. The data suggests that the past was flawed on its opinions of children who have no siblings. Apparently it's just as healthy as every other parental lifestyle choice.
Before I veer too far into the collective wisdom of science, and the data that supports it, let me just say that there have been times that I wish Rachel and I would have had another child. When I go to other people's houses, I like hearing them fight in other rooms and slam doors. I try to place bets on how long it will take the older brother to bring the younger to tears. Nobody, of course, likes me for this. But gambling isn't about being liked or loved, it's about the thrill of losing the bet.
Several of my closest friends had no siblings, or distant half-siblings whom they hardly knew, my mother had none, my partner and mother of my child has none, my son has none. This makes it possible for me to use my own experiences to draw the contours of my biases both for and against having a single child.
The boy and I talked about it quite a bit on our camping trip. He brought it up a few times. I let him speak, assuming he had stronger opinions on the matter than I. When I felt that he had adequately expressed himself on the desire to have a sibling, I explained why it had not happened yet - that his parents are imperfect - and that this also decreased the likelihood of it happening now, or at any time in the future.
I tried to explain that adjusting to a sibling at his age - 11 - might be more difficult than he assumes. It's not like a close friend - of whom the boy has several that are also without siblings - that will eventually go home, and you can return to whatever relaxed state you most enjoy. Siblings can be pernicious, and even cruel. I remember things from growing up that terrorized me. I have some fears and anxieties that are deeply ingrained. My brother has apologized for these incidents several times, but they are powerful memories, not fond ones. There was regular violence in my childhood. It can distort a person. It's a tale as old as Genesis.
The above image caught my eye yesterday when I was scrolling through old pages, trying to figure out the date that I gave up my apartment and moved back in with Rachel. Seems like it was the Summer of 2018. I miss the boy being very young, a little bit. There is something that perhaps parents feel more poignantly than others. I suppose it might be a simple as personal nostalgia, but it feels like more than just that, as if maybe nostalgia had a brother and sister.
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