As you know, Zoey finished middle school last Friday. This year has been a bumpy double marathon for her but she ended a year on a high note. She is feeling sad that she will not see some of her friends every day any more, since a number of kids are going to different high schools next year. I suspect she will actually see a couple of them at All City Band this summer, which starts rehearsal next week but she doesn’t really know who will be there. Zoey is a kid who needs major down time after a big event, a party, a martial arts best test, a week of standardized testing, etc. We’ve had a lot of events lately and she really hasn’t had a chance to vegetate, which can make her pretty anxious.

She has also gotten quite worried about me. We went out to dinner with grandparents last Friday and when someone mentioned my going to the hospital later this week, she said, “Mom, you’re going to the hospital?” It had apparently not registered with her when I told her about my cancer and she has not really wanted to talk about it since that time so I’ve kept her exposure to “cancer talk” to a minimum. So, I re-explained that I was going to the hospital for surgery but that I would be home the same day. I told her what she would be doing that day (glass blowing class followed by All City Band rehearsal) as well as who would be driving her to the different events. She kept excusing herself from the table “to get some air” and she paced up and down the street. Eventually, I walked with her to the bakery down the street from the restaurant so we could buy desserts to take home. She let me put my arm around her as we walked (in public, in our own neighborhood, no less). I told her that I knew it was a really hard time but that I really thought everything is going to be okay. I also told Zoey that I thought she’d feel better once she started going to the All City Band rehearsals and saw some familiar faces. She didn’t say much, but she listened and it was a nice mother-daughter moment. Plus, she got cake out of the deal.

Later that night she came into my room to make sure I was okay and not upset. (I had gone to bed particularly early because I was particularly tired.) I told her that I was just tired and gave her a hug good night. I asked her if she wanted to crawl into bed and read with me until John came to bed but she said that she was really tired, too so she went to bed.

I know she will be fine but I hate to see those wild big eyes she gives when she is scared. I can only tell myself that in all likelihood, this will end up being a good learning experience for her, especially if John and I can keep modeling good coping for her. That’s not the most poetic way to put it, but it’s true. And truth is nothing to sneeze at.

At the risk of getting all “Mama Grizzly” I will tell you that I am beyond tired of the comments thrown our way about how our daughter is this or that way because she is an “only child.” And no, folks aren’t chalking her numerous awesome qualities to the fact that she has no siblings. At times, her singleton status was used to explain positive qualities such as the times her otherwise sweet kindergarten teacher ascribed Z’s exemplary vocabulary to “you know, she’s an only child.” Her K teacher said this with a definite negative slant. With a flavor of “your conversing with your daughter has given her the horrible handicap of too many words when she should be engaged in more developmentally appropriate activities such as paste-eating.”

And on occasion, I’ve had people ask me, “Why do you only have one child?” These are not close friends.  These are people who I am meeting for the first time. Thankfully, I am old enough that people don’t ask me this anymore. But my stock response to the question of “Why do you only have one child?” is “Because one is all we have.”  Most people understand that this kind of circular answer is code for “you are asking an overly personal question” and they stop.

So is it really true that single childhood is a burden we give to our children?

Fact: Research shows an advantage for only children in terms of ultimate educational attainment. (No, an association does not mean that no one from a large family can get a Ph.D., says the 5th of 6th children, who has a Ph.D. It’s a probability thing, not an absolute relationship. That’s the way research is–there are almost always exceptions.)

Another Fact: Any general social advantage that children with siblings might show in kindergarten, goes away a couple of years later.

Another Fact: Zoey is an individual. Even if it were true that only children don’t know how to share or are more selfish she has proven this not to be the case with her:
Zoey was the leader of the “change the world club” that met at recess at her school. They carried around notebooks and brainstormed ideas for alternative energy sources. This club started in grade 2, when she was 7 years old. Nobody suggested this idea to her. It was a cause and club that she initiated.
Zoey started her own fundraiser after worrying about world hunger. She did a read-a-thon, called relatives, went door to door, talked to her teachers and principals. She raised $1800 for Heifer International. How old was she? She was 8 years old.
Fast forward to 6th grade, when Zoey was 11. One of the girls at school didn’t have enough money to go to the Disneyland trip with the band. Zoey started a fundraiser and put in $50 of HER OWN MONEY. She ended up raising $200. The girl’s parents were inspired to chip in the rest of the money. I was kind of surprised that they didn’t return the kids’ money especially since they live in an expensive part of town. (Maybe they were only children or something.)
Zoey has participated in the Big Climb to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society for the past two years.

And yes, I get it that she will not have sibling relationships after we die. That does worry me. But she does have deep and wonderful relationships with her cousins.

Okay, so if you have a problem with my kid, her quirkiness, loudness, the fact that she can run hot and cold, talks too much about Futurama, or any other quality that might rub you the wrong way, don’t blame it on the fact that she is an only child and therefore more selfish, less empathetic, or more socially maladroit. Everyone has quirks, even ME, THE GIRL WITH FIVE BROTHERS. Plus, she has about a million positive qualities. How about focusing on them and just enjoy her as she is. It should be easy. You don’t even have to remind her to do her homework or clean up after herself.

As a child/adolescent psychologist, I can tell you that there’s almost never one reason why someone is the way that he/she is. Pat explanations can be harmful. In my job I hear them all of the time, “There’s no such thing as ADHD, some kids are just brats and lazy. There’s no so thing as learning disability;  those kids are just looking for crutches when the real problem is that they are not smart enough”, etc. Those kinds of comments, especially at this time, they can act like a rasp to the heart strings of this Blog writer who is just trying to get through a stressful week before surgery, irrationally afraid that she will be too sick and tired later this summer to be a good mother to her teen girl, and who doesn’t need another reason to feel irrationally guilty because she was too selfish to produce a sibling for her kid. (She must be an only child.)

P.S. If you secretly think I may be talking to one of your readers specifically, I’m not. I have heard this all through the years from everyone and their mother. (Actually, everyone but my mother, thanks mom.) If you have made these kinds of comments to me about me or to others, please consider that parents have enough to feel guilty about without adding something that isn’t even generally true. These comments often come from well intended places, but please think about what you are saying and how it might impact others.

P.P.S. If you still think this post is about you, have taken offense, and feel the need to express your complaints, please wait until I’m done fighting cancer and then you can kick my ass all you want. I will almost undoubtedly tell you that I didn’t write this post about you and if you hold these views about only children, I will likely stand firm in my position but I’ll love you no matter what.

I am mama grizzly, hear me roar!