Debbie Downer (a reflection on birth order)

Does your oldest child already act like an oldest?

I ask this because I wonder when I first fell into my role as the "oldest."

Last night was my sister Emma's bachelorette party. Emma is number 5 out of our clan of 10. She for all intensive purposes the middle child. She fills the role to a T. The baby of our family, Kurt is in fact a giant baby. Now don't get me wrong I love Kurt so very much but he is a 5'5 10 year old baby.

I have read some studies on birth order and I am a class oldest. Every aspect of my personality can be attributed to being the oldest of my family. Now I look at Grant and wonder if he is destined for the same fate.

I say this because being the oldest is something you never outgrow. It had advantages when we were little. I always got to ride in the front seat and my toys were always new. As an adult it was neat to be the first to graduate college, get married, and have kids. But as an adult I have found the advantages to become fewer and further between.

Case in point: last night. As I said, it was my sister's bachelorette party. All of my sisters ( well 4 of them – Carla is not of legal age to drink), my mom, and two friends hit the town. It became very clear, very fast, that I would be the oldest one, aka the responsible one. I made sure (to the best of my ability) that everyone was in control and appropriate (although Paula gave me a run for my money). In other words I had NO FUN. But I am the oldest. That is my job.

Birth order can be a bitch sometimes. I often have to be the voice of reason among all the crazies. Last night would have made a great episode on a reality series. We were like the Kardashians with smaller butts.

Friday Night Fun

Dear Red Robin,

I would like to personally thank you for being one of the loudest restaurants on the planet. I mean that, I am sincerely thanking you.

My children screaming over their french fires and chicken fingers were no louder or more disruptive than the countless other sticky hand toddlers attacking their siblings over the onion ring tower.

I left your restaurant dirty, exhausted, and loaded down with countless calories, which is exactly how I like it. Our family survived a Friday night dining experience and I lived to tell the story. You are now my favorite dining establishment. We will be back, you have been warned.

God bless you!