All Dressed Up

Tessie gave me a great idea for a post. Not that I had run out of things to talk about or anything like that. No. Never.

Let’s talk about family size and birth order, shall we?

I’m an only child, sort of. My family tree is gnarled and withered, so don’t feel bad if you can’t keep up. My biological father, E, was married to a lady, P, before he married my mom. P had one boy (R) from her previous marriage, and then she and E had a daughter (V) together. With me, so far? Well, E and P got divorced, and then E married my mom. Together, they had me. Three short years later, when my mom caught him cheating on her with MJ, she booted him to the curb. He married MJ and they had a daughter,b. (My biological father sounds a lot like Kevin Federline, doesn’t he?) All of the children lived with their mothers. Well, except b. She lived with both her parents.

When I was little, R, V and I would spend the summers together at E and MJ’s place. So, I went from being an only child, to the youngest. Talk about a rough summer vacation. You see, my sister, V, went from being the youngest at her house, to older than me. Therefore, she terrorized me relentlessly. The only comfort was R terrorizing her right back. Well, somewhere around my sixth year, R stopped coming to visit E’s in the summer. E wasn’t his real dad and he didn’t want to waste the summers hanging out with his kid sister and me. From then on, it was just me and V.

When I was nine, my mom married B. He was my step-dad until I was 10, when he legally adopted me. This is the man I refer to as “dad.” I continued to see E over the summer until I was 11 and my sister was 16. At 16, she got pregnant and married. There was no way I was going to E and MJ’s place every summer by myself. BORING. Plus, MJ was a self-righteous bitch and I pretty much hated her. So, I stopped going. E didn’t seem to mind one bit.

When I was 16, MJ got pregnant with b. I saw her once, when she was just a few months old. Never since. When last I spoke to V, she assured me I wasn’t missing out on anything. Seems b is as spoiled as her mother is self-righteous.

The last dramatic event took place about seven or eight years ago. E died of a brain aneurysm, leaving MJ and b on their own. P, my sister’s mother, died just a few years before E did, so V is an orphan, just like I am. Except I still have my step-dad, and she doesn’t have anyone. I don’t think R’s father was really in the picture much.

What you were supposed to gather from that long, convoluted tale, is that I’m an only child, and the middle of three girls. For the sake of argument, I always say I’m an only child since I was never raised in the same house as either of my sisters.

Gerald, well, he’s an only child plain and simple. And Maddie will be, too. Why? Well, we made decision before I even got pregnant that we would only have one child. We both enjoyed being only children, and since we know the pitfalls such as selfishness and the inability to share, we know what to be diligent in teaching Maddie. We’re just not big family people. My mom and dad are both one of four. Gerald’s dad is one of two and his mom is one of three. No big families on either side.

One child is easier, in my opinion. I’m not spread thin, trying to provide monetarily and emotionally for multiple children. I won’t be running around every weekend, trying to get each kid to their respective games or practices. No telling Maddie I can’t be at her soccer game because I have to be at her sister’s softball game or take her brother to football practice. I don’t have to give two children half my attention. I get to concentrate on Maddie. Gosh, that sure sounds like I’m going to smother her, doesn’t it? Let’s hope it never comes to that.

Yes, I do regret that Maddie won’t have siblings to grow up with. But, I don’t regret it a lot. I don’t have much experience with siblings, and what I do have isn’t pleasant. I hope that by the time Gerald and I shuffle off this mortal coil, Maddie has her own family. The one thing I worry about most is her being alone when we die. Having no biological parents is a tough thing. Even when you’re an adult. It’s even worse when there’s no biological family left, period. No one to ask about medical history. No one tell stories of what a parent was like as a child. There’s an empty spot in your life where they used to fit, and it will never be filled by anyone else. In my case, my adoptive family is even better than the biological one I used to have, so I’m not lacking for love and support. I’m one of the lucky ones.

Filed under: daily on August 29th, 2007