Number One

I'm proud of my eleven-year-old son for a lot of reasons, but as I type this he is out in the garden pulling weeds so they don't overtake the vegetables we so carefully planted. No one told him to do this. It's amazing what kids will accomplish when they take ownership of something. He's been out there for well over an hour now.

Maybe it's the first-born in him. I do hear they are likely to be the more responsible ones. It didn't turn out that way with my siblings, but it seems that many of the most reliable people I know tend to be the oldest sibling. I try not to make a big deal about his responsibility as a role model to his little sisters, but it occasionally slips out.

He doesn't seem to mind--he has always been pretty serious and responsible. When he was in first grade, he wrote and entire page (while the other kids wrote one or two sentences) about how he wanted to go to the Air Force Academy and be a pilot. I don't even know, exactly, where he got that information, (we didn't have cable tv or anything at the time) but this continues to be his dream as he heads for 6th grade. I saved his little essay, and told him that when he applies I'm attaching it to his application.

He and my husband were able to take a trip to Colorado Springs last month to visit family. They spent a lot of time touring the Air Force Academy, too, and since the trip coincided with a class career project, Number One got to interview a recent graduate. She gave him tips for what he needs to do to be accepted, and he came back more convinced than ever that he belongs there. I hope he continues to work hard and watch his dream become his reality, but I also want him to enjoy being a kid.

Parents often joke that first-borns are the "guinea pigs" or "test kids," and it's true to a certain extent. We aren't perfect, and we certainly learn from the mistakes we make with the oldest child. I do worry that we put more pressure on Number One than we do the others, expecting more from him. It's hard, though, when we see all of the potential in our children to expect less.

As I wrap up, he is still out in the garden. The sun is slowly moving behind the tree line, and I'm sure the mosquitoes are preparing to attack. The girls are getting ready for bed, and I know I should call him in, too. But I won't. I'm going to let him finish the job he started.