My Kids Absolutely Fit The Birth Order Stereotypes

My 9-year-old gets to do a lot of fun stuff — a college basketball game with friends, an NFL game with his dad, numerous playdates. But I hear a frequent complaint: we expect too much of him. He has to help clean up the mess of toys he no longer plays with. He has daily chores the others don’t. When we remind him to do his homework or help with his three younger siblings, he accuses us of being “too hard” on him.

In short, he’s the oldest of four kids. But I didn’t realize when I watched the famous “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia” episode in “The Brady Bunch” all those years ago how much those roles of oldest, middle and youngest children were going to manifest in my own home someday, and how much I’d have to work to make my kids feel equal.

I do ask the most of my oldest. I catch myself scolding him in an exasperated tone for a slight mishap right after responding to one of his sibling’s tantrums with a solid dose of gentle parenting.

But it’s also true that I let him embark on the most activities, as he’s mature and responsible for his age. I admit I’ve wondered why my two middle children can’t be more like him. My oldest is happy to do his own thing; he’s creative; he’s inquisitive and smart. My middle two require my attention for just about anything. If they want to create a game, I have to play it. If they draw a picture, I have to review it.

And perhaps they demand my attention because it seems that the oldest and the youngest naturally get the most. The first time you experience something is usually the most exciting; with our oldest we experienced the first lost tooth, the first goal scored in a soccer game, the first burst of pride as they got that role in the school play. The second, third, and fourth times we experience those things probably won’t be quite as exhilarating. And the baby requires attention so she won’t turn on the stove or throw her brother’s laundry in the toilet (just … why?). Plus saying no to a 2-year-old who can barely talk but knows just when to say: “I wuv you!” is hard.

My second child struggled when his little brother was born, the sibling who made him “the middle child,” likely because my attention was divided. I was juggling his terrible toddler years while fostering his older brother’s burgeoning interests and tending to the needs of a baby. It felt as though he got lost in the shuffle more often than not.

When I was pregnant with my fourth child, I lamented to a friend that we were having a difficult time. “What will happen when the new baby comes?” I asked her.

“Then you’ll have two middle children,” she said. At the time, the words filled me with trepidation. How was I going to deal with two attention-seeking young children while dealing with a new baby? Why does it seem like the oldest child is a breeze, the baby can play you with simple cuteness, and the middle children are just hard sometimes?

With four kids in the house, it’s inevitable we’ll sometimes fall into these roles. The oldest has to help his little brother find his shoes while I wrestle the baby into her car seat. I need my middle two to try to understand I can’t play with them while trying to figure out their older brother’s math homework.

But when I notice myself overlooking someone or providing more attention to one child for whatever reason in a particular moment, I try to make sure the others know why that is and assure them that their time will come. Or at least that they too got endless songs every night when they were a baby, or they didn’t have chores at age 4.

And as I deal with jealousy and big feelings and tween attitudes, I try to enjoy each one for who they are, not how they interact with their siblings. Because they are more than their birth order, or even their age. And as their relationships grow and change, I hope they always have one another’s back — and know that I always have each of theirs.

Lauren Davidson is a Pittsburgh-based writer and editor focusing on parenting, arts and culture, and weddings. She has worked at newspapers and magazines in New England and western Pennsylvania and is a graduate of the University of Pittsburgh with degrees in English and French. She lives with her editor husband, four energetic kids, and one affectionate cat. Follow her on Twitter @laurenmylo.