LESSION #2: The Smallest Moments Can Make Us Feel Like the BRIGHTEST Stars

No one likes being pushed aside. Ignored. Neglected. Silenced. Especially a six year old. If nothing else, it’s deflating.

Being the eldest of five children, it was inevitable that I would eventually feel overlooked. When you’re the only child, you don’t bother questioning your position as center of your parents’ universe. You are fabulous. That poop you did by yourself? The most amazing poop anyone has ever done.

 

Though becoming a big sister was pitched to me as a positive life change, it didn’t take me long to realize that I was now pitted against someone newer, cuter and louder for a measly share of my parents’ time and attention. Like all first-borns the world over, I began to struggle with my new reality: I am no longer their Sun, the one they orbit around. I was demoted to “star”… one of many, all equally bright in my parents’ universe.

 

There’s a fallacy in society that it’s only battered old men and bitter old women who reminisce about years gone by, yearning for a simpler time. I felt that way at six. In my mind, all of life’s complications could be tracked back to this new sister-business. You see, I loved watching early morning cartoons with my brother Shawn, but I hated that he had an equal say in what we watched. And though I prized our family outings to the park on Saturday afternoons, I always felt cheated when we had to leave early because Jason had grown tired. Being an older sister was proving to be a double-edge sword indeed, and I yearned for a simpler time when it was all about me.

LESSON #1: Mothers are Miracle Workers

There’s an old Jewish Proverb that perfectly describes my mother: “God could not be everywhere, so he created mothers”.



L-R: Ryan, Bartholomew, Shawn, Tara, and Jason

My mother was not only the deity we revered, but also the one we’d pray to for miracles. Her days were filled with prayers like ‘not having to eat all the peas on our plate’, ‘getting an extra-big scoop of ice cream for dessert’ and ‘being aloud to stay up late to watch TV’. Though she wasn’t able to answer all of our prayers, my mother had a knack for knowing which ones were the most important.

As children, when we weren’t asking mum for miracles, we were usually found playing with our favorite stuffed toy Bartholomew – the biggest teddy bear any of us had ever seen.

We all loved him – all 5 of us kids – like he was one of the family. We sat with him while watching TV, taking turns sitting in the delicious spot snuggled in between his massive fuzzy legs, letting his gigantic arms envelope our tiny bodies. We napped using his paws as pillows – a kid each side. We dressed him up in costumes, and cast him in our plays. We even sat with him at dinner.