millennial blog project

NeXt Correspondent

On Nov. 5, 1993, I joined my three older brothers in this world. It went from just Jordan, Trevor and Adam to Jordan, Trevor, Adam and Emily. Friends of my parents told them that I was the icing on the cake – the pink icing.

The pros? Thanks to my brothers, I’m one tough cookie. Secondly, there was never a dull moment when we were younger. I joined them in their game of Annie and ran away with “Daddy” Warbucks (aka Jordan) and Little Orphan Annie (aka Adam) from Miss Hannigan (aka Trevor). I attended countless baseball games and “watched” from my secluded little perch: a stroller. We assigned ourselves Teletubbies (Jordan as Tinky Winky, Trevor as Dipsy, Adam as Laa-Laa, and myself as Po), we watched “The Big Comfy Couch” and they assisted Loonette the Clown and me with her Clock-Stretches and the Ten-Second Tidy before running out of the room screaming when Mr. Rogers came on.

Adam was my buddy. We were inseparable. He would make me cry and then he would “run into” a wall and pretend to get hurt so my crying would cease and turn into a giggle. My hands and knees were coated in dirt throughout my childhood. Adam and I had adventures and dug holes with intentions of making it to China. My brothers molded me into the perfect little tomboy, much to my mother’s dismay.

The cons? We couldn’t get through a weekday morning without fighting. Adam drove me nuts at the breakfast table and then laughed at me when our mother took out the torture tools: girly hair ribbons and clips. I used to take my dinner to another room when it seemed to my fragile little mind that it was “Pick On Emily Day.” Whenever I whined, the boys would chant “wheh wheh wheh wheh” in singsong – which absolutely infuriated me. The physical fights that occurred after my fury resulted in bruises, scratches, bite marks and even a bloody nose once (To: Trevor – Love, Emily).

Though they caused me pain and I have a dent between my eyebrows from a “rogue” Frisbee, I miss those days. Now my brothers are annoyingly overprotective, but I know they mean well, and that’s what older brothers are for, right? The older we get, the more girl-like I become, and next year, estrogen will rule in our home. Adam graduates from high school in June, leaving me behind to fend for myself. Next year it will be just my mother, my father and me.

Growing up with boys has prepared me for many things, but not this. I’ll give being an “only child” a try, but I probably won’t like it. My boys are all grown up, and as much as I want to, I can’t pause or rewind life. They may bring girls home from time to time, but they’re still my boys. Jordan’s my hero and inspiration; Trevor’s my main bodyguard and Adam’s still my buddy – no matter what he might tell you! To my new baby cousin Aubrey: good luck with your three older brothers. Believe me, I know you’re going to need it (I also know you’re going to love it)!