I was in a guided discussion about some aspects of my childhood and I re-lived some situations when my brother was a baby, particularly that day when he had his first steps and I was the first one to see, for being the only one with him in the room, in that moment. Wow. My eyes water even now when I write this… I thought I cried enough already.
I remember that moment so vividly. It was a sunny summer day, he was 11 months old, we were in the small dormitory, I was sitting next to the bed and he stood up and came towards me, from playing next to the wall, about 2 meters away. My mom was hanging out laundry on the balcony, in my right side, so I excitedly called her to see him also.
Few hours later, today, I was studying baby onesies in H&M and I was thinking: what if I will have to buy boy clothes and not girl clothes? And suddenly all my memories with my little brother overlapped over what I am now and I instantly felt so powerless, as I always felt with him.
I didn’t know how to communicate with my brother when he was little. I remember I was always pushed aside, when there was bath time, which was a circus almost every time, mom and dad trying to work together, continuous screaming and running demands. I’m very sorry to say this but this is how I remember it. So not much for a useful memory from that time, but that’s ok, there are plenty of YouTube videos now to learn from.
One time, he was still under 1, I think, my mom left me watching him for about half of hour, while she went downstairs to buy something from the neighborhood groceries store. When she came back she found us both hysterically crying.
She asked me what’s wrong, why am I crying? I said, it’s because he suddenly started crying and I didn’t know what to do, which made me feel overwhelmed, so the only thing I knew was to cry also. I was around 7.
7 years old is definitely not a proper age for one person to be left alone with a baby. Especially with absolutely no prior training. But yeah… This is how life was happening back then. Everybody was demanding and expecting, yet nobody was teaching. We even have a saying in Romanian: “a craft is not to be taught, it is to be stolen”. Sure. As if, my most ardent interest at that age was to proactively educate myself on how to care for a baby.
Later on, when he came back from the country side, where he was raised by my grandma until 3 and half, just like I was, he was a complete savage. Literally impossible for me to understand myself with him. Now the age gap was much more evident, we had absolutely nothing in common, however, he was always finding an incredible amount of pleasure in stealing my school stuff.
He was sometimes becoming so aggressive, which made me scream at him. For few times I even locked him in the closet, just so he could leave me in peace. I was letting him out after few minutes I was very sorry for him, but he was incredibly aggressive, hitting me and throwing with objects. I could never hit him.
He had absolutely no sense of empathy. Of course, if I ever complained I was always the one to blame, I was the older one, I should know better, he is small and doesn’t realize what he is doing. I should be the one teaching him good things, not bad things and not fighting with him.
Yes, because I was myself constantly taught and guided very calmly, educated with so much kindness, I had so many good memories to inspire myself from. Especially from the time I started school. :sarcasm emoticon: I honestly think from time to time: did I come out like this because if that or in spite of that?
Anyway… At one level I guess I don’t want to have a boy because I don’t want to re-live my childhood again. I cannot conceive the idea for my mom to get to understand herself with my own baby better than I could. And for me to be pushed aside.
I cannot conceive the idea for her to say to me, with my own baby present, that I’m stupid and not good for anything. I just hope I will have the power to calmly throw her out the door, in that instant: “My house, my rules!”
That simple. No more drama.
I can only hope the baby’s dad will not get pissed off someday with both me and the (crying) baby and throw us both, out in the streets. 😀