Advanced Essay #1: Scary Things (Like Small Children and Growing Up)

This essay is about realizing your growing because of other people. In my case specifically, these other people were my two younger cousins. My goals with this paper was to look at growing up and family in a different way. Most people talk about growing up in vague, undefinable terms. I tried describe this experience in terms of family. I think I was able to clearly portray my sense of humor and terror throughout the essay. I feel like I could have done a more in depth analysis of my fear, and I could have tried to determine it's exact root better.

Having a big family is great. Not being able to see said family… Not so great. From my Aunt and Uncle in Maine to my cousins in Hawaii, to my extended family in north Jersey, almost everyone in my family lives over an hour away. Physically, the closest family I have is my Aunt Elaine, my Uncle Ed, and my Grandma, and they live in West Chester. Because of this distance, seeing my family is kind of a big deal for me. I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen my cousins Dashtan and Rae in person. Oh, and Dashtan and Rae live on opposite sides of the country.

The first time I saw my cousin Dashtan was about 3 years ago. It was the first Christmas he would ever spend in the continental US. It was also the first time my immediate family would ever meet him. This was something monumental for my sister, Stella, and I. Until Dashtan came along, we had always been the babies of the family. We had no younger cousins, unless you count Angel and Maya, but they live in Switzerland. It was an odd feeling, fussing over someone, instead being fussed over ourselves. When we got to my Aunt’s house, I saw a little flash of green and red out of the corner of my eye. Dashtan had rushed from the kitchen into the living room to see greet us. He’s eyes went wide at our height, since up until this point, he had only seen us over Skype. It was an incredible feeling, seeing this little boy look up at me and my sister, both physically and emotionally, something no one had done before.

Normally, during family holidays, Stella and I would often be sent to the basement while the adults talked. When we were little, we enjoyed it. We loved curling up on the couch under a blanket and watching Disney movies. As soon as I turned 8, it became clearer to me that we were being sent away, so they adults wouldn’t have to deal with us. That Christmas was the first time in several years we eagerly headed down the steps to the basement. Dashtan picked out a movie he wanted to watch and then sat on the floor to play with some of the toys he had brought with him. As we played with him, I realized why we had always been sent to the basement. “Little kids are tiny balls on indecisive energy,” I thought as Dashtan stopped building with his blocks and started playing with the trucks, again, all while The Rescuers played in the background. Another realization: young boys are a lot more rambunctious than young girls. I can’t tell you the number of times I almost had a heart attack, watching Dashtan run and jump around the room. At that point, it really hit me for the first time. Stella and I weren’t the babies anymore. We weren’t little. We weren’t the ones being watched over. Everyone has a realization like that at some point. When you realize, you aren’t a kid anymore, and it’s terrifying. When you’re little, growing up seems great; but when you actually get there, you realize you have no idea what you’re doing.

The next cousin to come along was baby Rae. By this point, I was 14. I had learned how to master toddlers, but babies? Yeah, I didn’t have a clue. When Rae was about 6 months old, my family and I went down to Asheville, North Carolina to meet her. She was, of course, adorable, as babies should be. She had big, light blue eyes and tufts of dark blonde hair. She was just starting to teethe, so we were all greeted with a gummy smile, but happy none-the-less. I was fine while I was playing with her, as long as she was sitting on something or someone else. But when I was asked if I wanted to hold her, I had a very internal panic attack. I’d never held a baby before. Like I said, Stella and I were the babies of the family, and she is only 3 years younger than me. If you’ve never held a baby before, I wish you good luck. And no matter how big their smile is, it’s still terrifying.