only children

"If you ever wonder what being an only child is like, just imagine third wheeling your parents every day."
I am an only child. Through the years I have been asked if I felt differently because I am an only child. My answer was always no because that is all I have ever known.
This topic is close to my heart because I am an only child and struggled with feeling lonely. Unlike your daughter, I was very shy and so would never have just run over to another child's house to hang out. It is great that your daughter is extroverted, and I understand that you are anxious that her spirit and social nature will be crushed if other children continue to reject her.
As a parent living with secondary infertility, I know how fortunate I am to have a smart, funny, all-around-awesome child. I also know the beauty of watching a young child learn and grow. I long to have that experience again with another child.
Divorce may be particularly difficult for only children. This is true for children without any siblings as well as virtual only children, those who are separated by seven or more years from their closest sibling. Children with special-needs siblings can also feel like only children, particularly if the sibling is unable to engage interpersonally.
My heart didn't close when my son was born. I fell in love, and every day I fall more deeply under his spell.
I'm reluctant to have another baby. I selfishly want to prolong a period of time when I don't have to speak to my son in half-sentences with a quarter of my attention all while trying to race across the living room to keep the baby from killing himself on the edge of the coffee table.
Out of the blue last weekend, apropos of basically nothing I could immediately ascertain, my 7-year-old announced that he wanted a brother.
When I'm faced with parents considering having only one child, I try to say the right things. True things.
It wasn't that we didn't know our daughter. It was that Only Child Week gave us a chance to bring her into sharp focus, without the distractions of work and school and French horn practice and babysitting commitments.
I do still wish, more than anything, that I had two children: Aidan and Nina. But now I know that longing for the daughter I lost does not mean I want a replacement.
This Halloween season, I have to be honest and say that I have my own ideas about the costume he could wear. I wished there was an I'm-a-kid-from-a-large-family-costume that would adequately disguise his very real "only child' status. Let me explain.
I keep reading because I'm scared. I have no frame of reference for a sibling in my life and it seems in this case, I'll have to follow my daughter's lead, loving unconditionally, sight unseen, and just open my heart and share everything I have.
I've always wanted kids and lots of them. I love the chaos and the unpredictability and the large noisy dinners.
This was the baggage I brought to my interview with Lauren Sandler, a fellow only/mom of one and the author of One and Only
Now, I have a whole new way to consider parenting her -- a way that is the total opposite of my extroverted instincts.
For years I've anxiously been waiting the day I have my parents, house, car, and basically everything else to myself. But for the first time (one of the many firsts that seem to be coming hand in hand with next year), I might actually find myself missing my siblings.