Only child, not 'lonely' child

Last weekend a family moved into the house directly opposite mine. A family with not one, not two, but three little boys, so I don’t have to tell you about the tsunami of excitement that came crashing through my home. Sure my son has Ethan, his friend from three houses away, and Shaniya, his friend from around the corner. But this is big! These boys literally live a stone’s throw away, and unlike with Ethan and Shaniya, from his bedroom window he can see in their backyard so he knows when they are outside. And even if he doesn’t look, he can hear when they are outside — the signal that it’s play time. In no time, as is the norm with children, they go whizzing past on their bikes, catching grasshoppers, and playing football.

I’m happy for him, because as an only child I know it’s hard for him sometimes, especially since he has said farewell to the troop of imaginary friends that roamed the halls of our house for years. They were quite a handful, always making demands, through him, for food, my time and attention. I can’t say I’m not glad they’re gone, but that brought with it a different level of loneliness for him that I could never seem to fill. So much so that at one point I was almost tempted to give in to his pleading to give him little brother or sister — almost. A recollection of the hell that posed as pregnancy for me quickly took care of that temptation.

Despite the pangs of loneliness, though, I think he is handling this only child thing very well, with interspersed, mild symptoms of only child syndrome — wanting to get his own way, the rare unwillingness to share, and generally acting very selfish — which, as far as I can see, are not traits that are exclusive only to children without siblings and are more the direct result of the manner in which a child is raised. But I’m no expert at this parenting thing, so don’t quote me on that.

The biases of only child syndrome originated from a study conducted and published in the 19th century by E W Bohannon from Clark University in Massachusetts, in which he detailed the results of a questionnaire in A Study of Peculiar and Exceptional Children. The questionnaire was filled out by 200 test subjects and participants in 196 cases described children without siblings as excessively spoiled.

There are many benefits to having siblings. I should know, I grew up with five of them and wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. Having siblings helps with language development, it teaches empathy, fosters healthy relationships, leaves you with no time to get bored, and the list goes on. But I have also seen the other side and let’s just say it isn’t always pretty. I have the scars, physical and emotional, to prove it.

If I was younger and pregnancy didn’t pose a so many health risks for me, I probably would have given more consideration to giving my son the experience of having at least one little poo poo pants to deal with. I know he would have been a great big brother, because I’ve watched him with babies and small children. He’s gentle, loving, generous, nurturing, selfless and responsible — some of which he ought not to be, you know, being an only child and all.

The thing is, though, as far as I can see he didn’t come up with a short straw. For despite all his woeful tales of loneliness, he is totally riding the waves of the advantages of being an only child — he is daily learning the benefits of independence and loving it, he will always be the favourite child, gets all the attention and material benefits. I don’t hear him complaining when he gets things he knows I would not have been able to afford if I had to get two or more of them, or about the amount of time I spend doing things with him or taking him places. Sometimes it feel like we are joined at the hip, an experience he would not have had if there was another child in the house. And because he spends most of his time around adults he has a knack for carrying on a conversation with an adult with ease, much to his delight.

Over the years, in spite of the "lonely" productions he seems to enjoy putting on, I have watched #1son learn to rely on himself to make himself happy. A lesson many adults, myself included, sometimes have a hard time learning. Even his woeful productions too have morphed into something positive. His ability to frequently play by himself has boosted his already big imagination, resulting in a discovery of his love for drama and dancing. His must-put-on scenes before bed on any given night may find me in a club watching a dance routine for the movie he will write, produce and direct, or at the edge of an abyss witnessing his prowess in a run, jump and flip scene in the action movie in which he will star. Or I may have to stand helplessly by as my baby gets covered by an avalanche of rocks, from under which he skilfully digs himself, unlike Game of Throne’s Jaime and Cersei who remain buried in the Red Keep’s dungeons. Poor souls, they must not have been only children.

The bottom line is that childhood is the foundation on which adulthood is built, so whether you have one child or ten, the important thing is that they be allowed the good childhood they deserve, with good not necessarily translating into material things. Whether they spend time playing with siblings or friends who are like siblings, they should be able to say like Winnie the Pooh, "We didn't realise we were making memories, we just knew we were having fun."