Imagine a fallen Catholic and a non-practicing Muslim settling into an Orthodox Jewish neighborhood to nurture their only child. Sounds like the setup for a punchline, right? Well, that’s us—the odd family with a unique little one. Let’s be honest, only children are often portrayed as the eerie protagonists of horror tales.
As summer rolls in, our neighborhood turns into a ghost town. Families escape to their beach “shacks” or enroll their kids in all-day glamorous camps where they learn everything from macramé to pony riding. Back in March, I had grand visions of crafting hair halos from dandelions and basking in the sun. Fast-forward to two rounds of Monopoly and a tea party with vintage dolls, and we’re both left scowling. I’m wearing too many hats as my daughter’s mother, playmate, sister, and cousin, and it’s proving unsatisfying for both of us.
Wouldn’t it be great if parents of only children could rent a sibling for the day? Imagine picking up a pretend brother on your way to the beach and dropping him off on the return trip. Rent-a-sibling would also come in handy for those amusement park outings—I could avoid the dizzying rides!
Haven’t we done enough throughout the year? Sleepovers, organic lemonade stands, playdates, birthday bashes, piano lessons, swimming, and tennis. I even succumbed to the allure of Russian Math but thankfully put my foot down at Mandarin classes. The competition isn’t limited to the kids either; I was even pressured into taking Pure Barre classes—exercise for affluent white women—and ended up buying the stylish workout gear. Let’s just say I look like a bad 80s music video.
I’m exhausted from trying to keep up with suburban expectations. Can’t we just take a break? How about running through the lawn sprinkler instead? I’d rather not engage in chatter with the slim moms in sundresses discussing the latest OPI pedicure colors while my daughter learns coding on her laptop. I long to sink into my splintery Adirondack chair with a glass of non-organic hard lemonade, listening to 70s soft rock music, legs unshaven, just like my mom did back in the day.
I understand it’s dull for her. There aren’t many playmates around. I never had to consider this when I was younger—I roamed with my siblings and neighborhood kids, a wild tribe, until dusk. We walked barefoot and bought Rocket Pops from the ice cream vendor with our piggy bank savings.
In lieu of a sibling, I decided to add a puppy to our family. However, I quickly realized that puppies aren’t exactly suited for spontaneous summer getaways or beach days.
I can tell this summer isn’t going to be filled with cozy fire-pit marshmallow roasting and singing kumbaya. So, I ask my daughter what would make this the best summer of her six-year-old life. “Building an Elsa castle!” she exclaims without a moment’s hesitation.
And just like that, we’re constructing a Nordic cardboard castle in our driveway. “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” she sings cheerfully. Not really, but I roll up my sleeves and dive in. All those pony-riding, computer-programming kids will surely want to join us. If you build it, they will come. At least, that’s my hope as I sip another swig of hard lemonade.
For more insights on navigating parenthood, check out this engaging read on how to embrace the complexities of raising an only child. If you’re considering home insemination, you can find quality options at CryoBaby’s at-home insemination kits. Additionally, for a deeper understanding of the process, this Wikipedia page on in vitro fertilisation is an excellent resource.
In summary, summer with an only child can be a delightful yet challenging adventure, filled with unique experiences that don’t always fit the mold.
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