The Baby of the Family

Growing up the youngest of three children has certainly had its advantages and disadvantages over the years. Even though I'm 47, I'll forever be referred to as the "baby of the family." I have an older brother, named Ray and a much, much, much older sister, named Maria. My parents married in 1955, had my brother in 1956, and then my sister in 1957. They sure didn't waste anytime in those days, did they? I didn't come along until 1961. Prior to my arrival, my mom had been pregnant but lost the baby. I can't tell you how many times I've thought about all the "what ifs."

Being the youngest, means you have to work your way up the food chain. I always got stuck with the least-favorite chores. Ray got to take out the garbage (big whooop), Maria got to vacuum (like that was real hard) and I had to dust with Pledge and one of my dad's old t-shirts. This required removing every knick-knack and dusting underneath it (where there is no dust, I might add) and replacing it. Also, growing up in a home that is littered with early American furniture meant there were lots of nooks and crannies on the railed backs of the dining room chairs, wooden mirrors with eagles, louver doors, and shutters on every damn window. It seemed as if every piece of upholstered furniture, like the couch and side chairs, had wood on it too! I longed for a feather duster like the one that Alice on the Brady Bunch used to do her dusting with. She made it look so fun and easy. She was also fortunate in that the Brady's had more modern decor in their home with way more upholstered furniture and less wood. I really could not relate to the episode where Cindy was bitching about being the baby in THAT family. Afterall, she did have a maid.

As the youngest, I also had to go in the scary basement and get stuff out of the freezer chest. It was located in the laundry room under the stairs which had an old green shower curtain for a doorway. I remember dreading that trip. I would run up the stairs so fast after retrieving whatever it was I was sent for that I would trip on the stairs, making a huge ruckus. My mother was not pleased and thought I was being ridiculous.

Whenever we rode in the car, being the youngest meant having to sit in the middle with my feet on the hump because I was the shortest and had the least amount of rights. You try sitting in the middle seat on a car ride from Detroit to Yellowstone National Park. It aint no picnic. Especially when you have to sit with your arms squished together on your lap for fear of touching an older sibling who warned you to "stop touching me."

Being the youngest meant that I had to go to bed the earliest. It seemed unfair at the time, but once I had children of my own, it worked for me! Oh my gosh, look at the time, 7:30 p.m. already! Goodnight Cameron! Alex get ready, cuz you're going next!

Being the youngest in the family also means, not seeing very many baby photos of you in your parents' photo albums. Oh look, here's a picture of Ray, Ray, and Ray! And because Maria came along only one year later, there were also plenty of pictures of them looking cute together. Cute in the crib, cute on the rocking horse, cute in front of the Christmas tree, cute talking on the play telephone. I do recall one picture of me laying in a lounge chair in my parent's bedroom. You know the kind with the plastic straps and aluminum metal frame that tri-folded? When I was two, I broke my leg in the backyard (probably my evil sister pushed me off the swing set or something of that nature). Anyway, I was in traction for six weeks at Wayne County Hospital. Why my parents had to bring in a lawn chair for me to sit on when I came home, I don't know. Perhaps we did not get real furniture until the year I took over dusting duties. I'll have to inquire about that.

As we grew older, I began to see some advantages to being the baby of the family. I recognized that my sibling were the "pioneers" of the family and unbeknownst to them, were blazing new trails for me. Things that initially seemed new and scary for my parents became old hat by the time I got around to doing them. I seem to recall my brother questioning my bed time when I was a young teen, claiming that he had to go to bed much earlier when he was my age. Boo hoo! As my boys would say today "Want me to call a whaaaambulance?"

Of course, I was probably a dream child compared to my rebellious brother. He didn't even want to go on vacation to Hawaii with our family when he was 16 because frankly, when you're a teenager, hanging out with your family just isn't fun or cool. I was like "Dude, we're going to Hawaii, are you kidding me? The Brady kids LOVED Hawaii when they went with their parents."

When my sister was going to tell my fanatically catholic parents that she was going to be living in sin with her boyfriend (who later became her husband) I asked her "oooooh....can I be there when you tell them?" However, I don't recall it being a major event for them. It's not like they shunned my sister or brother in-law or constantly preached to them the error of their ways. As parents, they really did a good job of adhering to the philosophy of "We raised you to the best of our ability and how you choose to live your life is up to you. Whatever you choose, we will be there to support you." I've really got to give my parents credit for that. By the time I told them that Ed and I were moving in together, they were practically ecstatic. It was shortly after I was diagnosed with breast cancer that we decided to become roomies. I think my parents were just thrilled that I wouldn't be living all by myself while having to go through chemo treatments. What can I say, timing is everything? After your daughter tells you she has cancer, moving in with her boyfriend probably seems like a fabulous idea!

Now that I'm a mother of two myself, I recognize that Cameron experiences some of his own freedoms, sooner than his older brother, Alex, ever did--especially when it comes to cell phones, texting, music choices, and online networking. But I can tell you this, one thing Cameron has never had to do is sit in the middle seat. He doesn't even have to sit in the middle row in Ed's vehicle if he doesn't want to! However, he does have to go into the finished basement to get stuff out of the freezer for me.