Being an only child is a whole experience in itself. Many people glorify it: typically the people that don't have the "privilege" of having a house free from siblings. Right now, I'm sitting at home typing on a laptop that is mine and only mine. I'm eating cookies that I don't have to share. I'm listening to the music that I chose. I didn't have to fight for use of the dining room table. These are just small things that I maybe take for granted - things I've heard would not be a reality if I had a brother or sister. To readers with siblings, this life sounds glorious, doesn't it? But let me tell you something: I would do anything to be in your shoes and have those little scuffles you talk about having with your siblings. The loneliness and lost experiences I have felt aren't included in the typical only-child stereotype. But they're there, and just like that little brother that won't stop bugging you, those feelings never quite disappear no matter how hard you try to make them.

From the time I was very little, I had no bigger dreams than to one day have a little brother or sister. I would constantly ask my mom if I should be expecting anything: if she was expecting anything. But, it was never in God's plan for that dream to come to fruition. It was hard to accept - something I still wouldn't say I am completely "okay" with. I wasn't alone all the time (I had neighbors and parents to play with), but obviously, there were many times when I had to entertain myself. Though it was kind of unconscious, looking back, I can see how jealous I was of all those kids who, when they left school or wherever, went home to playmates. I was baffled at the fact that they were able to play tag and hide-and-seek at home, too! When they threw a ball, there was someone always on the other end to catch it. When they set a volleyball, there was someone else there to spike it. (Needless to say, I made many trips to retrieve balls lost over my fence.) My Barbies couldn't complain about my independent play time, though. They were very-well attended to, with painstaking arrangement of their furniture and the utmost attention dedicated to their wardrobes. There was always a pregnant Barbie and probably an excited about-to-be-a-big-sister Kelly at her side. My favorites though were definitely the cute little quintuplets.

My preoccupation with babies didn't stop at Barbies, though. I was fascinated with human babies and kids, too! I loved visiting my mom and the kids she took care of at a daycare in town. I enjoyed getting to watch all my little cousins grow up and still look forward to playing and talking with them each time we get together. I got along with all my friends' younger siblings and looked forward to playing with them, too. I was especially close to one friend and her family (and still am!) and could definitely call their house my second home. It felt so nice to have "siblings" that I could completely be myself around and feel included with. Once I was old enough, I jumped at the chance to help in my church's nursery on Wednesday nights. I took every opportunity I could to be around kids. I didn't mind the noise: it was such a stark but invited contrast from what was normal at my house. It was exciting and unpredictable. Leaving these situations each time, though, was extremely tough. I knew that once I got home (nothing against my house and the people and dog in it, though), I would once again find myself in quiet, searching for things and people to occupy my time with. It's just the nature of being an only child. Though I know my parents did the absolute best they could to play and talk with me, there just isn't a substitution for having someone close to your age to interact with. There were neighbors that I was thankful to have, but just like coming home from my friend's house or leaving the daycare, those playmates would soon be gone back to their sibling-filled houses. I felt as though I were really missing out.

Though it was hard, and still continues to be hard at times, to not have a ready-playmate or someone to be on the other end of a conversation with, I was able to develop my ability to entertain myself. I've learned about independence and have had opportunity to cultivate my contentment. Time spent with friends is all the sweeter. And all the time spend with kids has led me to a passion for working with children, one that I hope to take into a middle school classroom someday. This is the life God wanted me to experience, and I mean, it's not all bad. (Remember those cookies I don't have to share?) There's so much I've learned and seen being an only child - so much of myself that I owe to being an only child - so much that I can't fit it all in the confines of one article. More to come...

Side note in the form of a movie plug: Have you seen La La Land yet? Go see it. I am just a little completely obsessed and over-the-moon enthralled with it. :)