The Middle "Little" One

Now that I have no "littles" I can't refer to the three teens at home that way, but in my mind I tend to separate the family into the older kids and the younger ones.  In many ways they are like separate families.

The older ones formed a normal size big family of five or six before the littles came along, and the little ones joined a big family before gradually becoming a "normal" family of six or five (and shrinking).

Of course the older ones accuse me of completely spoiling the younger siblings, as I have said before, and in some ways it is very true.  I have mellowed as a mother, and honestly law and order just aren't as mandatory when we aren't such a big family.  I can easily get most of the chores done myself even if they don't pitch in and help, so I don't make such a stink about it when they don't cooperate.

Yep, they are a tad spoiled.  I tell people I was too impatient to wait for grandchildren, so I just had my own.  The older kids never thought this was very funny.  They are NOT your grandchildren!  Do something, Mom!  Maybe I was too tired by then, I don't know.  Have any of you other moms of many discovered a similar tendency?

I must quickly add that Bekah, the oldest "little one," has those wonderful first-born qualities of being diligent, observant, and intuitive.  The other two have potential, but as yet mostly undiscovered.

The memory I recall this week involves Jonny, the middle "little."  When his brother Mike left home five years ago, Jonny was left as the only man of the house when Jim would travel.  We tried to instruct him in the ways of being a body guard for his sisters (a necessity in this part of the world where unescorted girls are assumed to be of questionable character).  One of his tasks would be to go on the bus to accompany a sister to the orthodontist in the big city, and threateningly stare down any would-be admirer of Hannah or Bekah.

Jonny, however, tends to be oblivious more like his mother rather than taking after his very conscientious and alert father, and needed to be taught how to play the role of big brother to his older sisters.  The first time I began his "awareness training" exercises, we were walking down to a tienda not far from our house.  Leaving our property, I was surprised to see a strange truck parked outside the wide open gate.  Wanting to use this as a learning tool for my body-guard-in-training, I waited until we passed the truck (again, a very unusual thing to see in that location), and asked him how many men were in the truck.

Who's watching out for whom?

Those of you who know Jonny can imagine his response.  Any guesses?  Yep, that's right.  He replied, "What truck?"

Flunk.

For now it doesn't matter because generally it is Bekah he is supposedly responsible for.  Our detective Bekah could have made a detailed sketch of each man in the truck along with what they were wearing, and could articulate what possible nefarious plot the men had for being in such a mysterious place in broad daylight.

When Bekah graduates next year leaving only the two littlest littles (and I use this term ironically since Jonny is almost 6 feet tall now), well, we will need more knee-time in prayer.  One ADD poster child looking after another could be... risky.  Then again, maybe once no older kids are constantly looking out for them they might just grow into mature adults.  Maybe.  Might.  Possibly?

Hopefully....

Then again, just pray!

(We love you, Jonny -- you goofy, wonderful, sometimes clueless, 15-year-old!)

Addendum by Hannah from my Facebook wall, April 5, 2012:

 In Jonny's defense..... A few years ago, we were getting gas at the Pemex right outside of Oaxaca and these 3 guys in the truck next to us were checking out Bekah and me in the front seat. Jonny, in the back, rolls down his tinted window, glares at them and shakes his head a few times then rolls up the window again.