For nine years, I was an only child. I got more attention than most kids deserve or receive, because my parents were divorced when I was two. This meant that when I was with one parent, I was given undivided attention. This only increased when each parent got remarried, giving me one more person in each household.
Me, my Mom, and Dad at my high school graduation.
I can't lie. It was nice to be the focus of conversation and constantly be treated like the only person in the world. However, I was certainly lonely at times. While my friends went on vacations with a built-in friend and got to hang out with their siblings or share road trips with them, I never experienced this luxury. It was always on car rides when I felt like something was missing. On the way to New York to visit family, my Dad and I would listen to music. This was great, but I wished there was another kid in the backseat I could talk to. I know a lot of people did not always get along with their siblings, but at least they constantly had someone to hang out with that was close to their age.
When I was nine, my stepmom told me that she was pregnant with a baby. Nine-year-old me was thrilled beyond belief. It was exactly what I had been waiting for - a little brother or sister to teach, admire, and hang out with. Nine months later, my first brother, Ethan, was born. I was overwhelmed with joy. I felt that there weren't enough hours in the day to spend with him. Sometimes I would purposefully make a lot of noise while he was napping just so he would wake up and I could play with him.
A little over a year later, my stepdad told me that my mom was pregnant. It was when I returned from my second summer at camp.
"What's new?" I asked.
"Well, we got some new bar stools, some new TV channels, your mom's pregnant, it's been really hot outside..." He said, nonchanlantly.
I screamed with joy. Not only was I going to be a big sister again, but this was going to be my mom's child. That meant that I would have a baby around no matter where I was: Mom or Dad's. Charlotte came in March of 2007, and she was the next greatest happiness I'd ever experienced. We bonded from the beginning. I gave her my favorite stuffed animal, the one that I was given when I was a baby (and had slept with ever since).
Over the next few years, my stepmom had two more babies: Delia and Eric. Going to my Dad's house was (and is) a big adventure. There are three kids to kick around, plus two parents who are wholly different from my other parents at my other house. Despite the fact that there are more kids at my Dad's house, it always seems to be a little bit calmer than my Mom's. Dividing my time between the houses was something that helped me to grow and understand myself. Having two homes where the environments were completely different allowed me to recognize the importance of a calm household and a hectic one. Both are unique, both offer me things I would not be able to have at the other home.
Three of my four siblings (from front to back): Charlotte, Delia, Ethan
Having two sets of homes with two sets of people is a unique experience, one that I would not give up for anything. Not only have I grown up with four loving parents, but I was given four younger siblings to play with. I hope I've imparted some of my wisdom on them, and that I continue to be a positive influence in their lives. They may not have two households, but they have me. I think I can offer each of them perspective on balance, family, and love. I love the ages they are now, but I can't wait to watch them grow and finally have siblings I can talk to in the car.
