Younger Small Sister

Younger Small Sister

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Specialized in motivation and personal growth, providing advice to make readers fulfilled and spurred on to achieve all that they desire in life. Read full profile
It is always great to be a younger sister as it comes with certain benefits. However there are sad truths that can make us resent the concept at certain points in our lives. Sometimes it is better and more revealing to stare at these realities and understand how we can manage the situations that it presents. Here are 9 sad truths about being a younger sister.
In order to mess with you, this was a ploy to make you upset. Over and over your older siblings would try to make you feel that you do not belong there with them.
It can’t be just you in a photo. There will be older ones to share the spotlight with you. At least an older sibling/cousin will always be in there.
You might have been trained like a military officer because over time you have become a pro at obeying orders. Discipline was part of the rigors of being an older sister.
It would have been better to be recognized for being you but everyone calls you someone’s sister. No one wants to know your name, they prefer referring to you by your older siblings.
Before you ever met them, every teacher knew who you were. Although it might sound amusing, you seemed to be a legend even on your first day at school.
In the eyes of your aunts, uncles, parents, and or grandparents, you will always be seen as the little 4-year-old. Even when you are all grown up, you are referred to as the little one.
Sometimes you find yourself not as good or as accomplished as your older relatives, enough to make you cry all night. The standards before you were challenging enough.
Your parents could not drive to two activities at once so you had to participate in the same activities that your older siblings partook in. Asking to be escorted to your favorite sporting event was always too much to ask.
To be sure you are making the right decision; you have older ones who will protect your interest in every way possible. Somehow your boyfriends/girlfriends will have to pass a stiff screening process before they are accommodated by the family.
Being the younger sister comes with various challenges but as you grow older you get used to the difficulties it presents! They are something that only younger siblings can understand.
Specialized in motivation and personal growth, providing advice to make readers fulfilled and spurred on to achieve all that they desire in life.
Specialized in motivation and personal growth, providing advice to make readers fulfilled and spurred on to achieve all that they desire in life.
© 2005 - 2022 Lifehack · All Rights Reserved.

Share

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Specialized in motivation and personal growth, providing advice to make readers fulfilled and spurred on to achieve all that they desire in life. Read full profile
It is always great to be a younger sister as it comes with certain benefits. However there are sad truths that can make us resent the concept at certain points in our lives. Sometimes it is better and more revealing to stare at these realities and understand how we can manage the situations that it presents. Here are 9 sad truths about being a younger sister.
In order to mess with you, this was a ploy to make you upset. Over and over your older siblings would try to make you feel that you do not belong there with them.
It can’t be just you in a photo. There will be older ones to share the spotlight with you. At least an older sibling/cousin will always be in there.
You might have been trained like a military officer because over time you have become a pro at obeying orders. Discipline was part of the rigors of being an older sister.
It would have been better to be recognized for being you but everyone calls you someone’s sister. No one wants to know your name, they prefer referring to you by your older siblings.
Before you ever met them, every teacher knew who you were. Although it might sound amusing, you seemed to be a legend even on your first day at school.
In the eyes of your aunts, uncles, parents, and or grandparents, you will always be seen as the little 4-year-old. Even when you are all grown up, you are referred to as the little one.
Sometimes you find yourself not as good or as accomplished as your older relatives, enough to make you cry all night. The standards before you were challenging enough.
Your parents could not drive to two activities at once so you had to participate in the same activities that your older siblings partook in. Asking to be escorted to your favorite sporting event was always too much to ask.
To be sure you are making the right decision; you have older ones who will protect your interest in every way possible. Somehow your boyfriends/girlfriends will have to pass a stiff screening process before they are accommodated by the family.
Being the younger sister comes with various challenges but as you grow older you get used to the difficulties it presents! They are something that only younger siblings can understand.
Specialized in motivation and personal growth, providing advice to make readers fulfilled and spurred on to achieve all that they desire in life.
Specialized in motivation and personal growth, providing advice to make readers fulfilled and spurred on to achieve all that they desire in life.
© 2005 - 2022 Lifehack · All Rights Reserved.

When My Little Sister Wants to Play 'Doctor'
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My sister is 10 years old, and we all try to encourage her to use her imagination and play. In this day and age, I feel like sometimes everyone (including kids) are too busy looking at screens for entertainment instead of entertaining themselves. I try to explain to her that I wish I felt like doing all the things she can, but having chronic fatigue syndrome leaves me very limited.
Naturally, she wants to play games and do things with me. We might play a game on the card table, where I can lay in the chair on the heating pad. She plays restaurant and brings me food. She made her own menu and everything. Then we swap roles and I bring her fake food.
However, after we were done playing restaurant, she wanted to play doctor. This may sound silly, possibly petty or even me just being plain sensitive. I told her alright, we can play that. She asks me why I am there, and of course, playing doctor is no fun if there is nothing wrong with you. Right? It makes sense for a kid to want to have something wrong with the other. That is what playing doctor is anyway.
I just kept hoping she would not bring up my illness. She had done it in the past. She had asked why I was there and even had a cure for it. I wish she did, I guess she wished so too. I had to explain to her over and over how it works. Do I expect her to perfectly understand? Of course not. But it sometimes seems like she does not believe me.
In the end, all she did was say I had strep throat. She then “removed” my tonsils later.
Every time she asks if I want to play doctor, my stomach drops. I am sick of doctors. I am sick of going to doctors with all sorts of things wrong with me and being told there is either nothing they can do or they do not believe me.
I hate that I am this way, and I hate that the very thought of playing doctor fills me with such dread and fear.
I hate that I am 22 years old, and I have enough diagnoses on my chart that it takes up many pages.
I hate that the smallest thing like this triggers all these emotions. I hate explaining it, so I typically don’t.
When my younger sister wants to play doctor, I do. I play with her. I swallow these emotions, because the last thing I need to do is make her feel like she needs to walk on eggshells.
I try my best to not let everything affect me personally, like when people that say, “if you do not have a wheelchair, you should not use the handicap parking.”
It’s those who refuse to believe someone as young as me can relate on a personal level to my grandmother and have numerous health problems.
It’s those using my illness as a joke or a fake reason not to have a job.
It’s those people who direct something at one population, and yet I get offended.
I feel like ableism is real, but I also feel I need to remember not everyone is aware. I was not aware til I got sick at 19. I was not aware of the world of chronic illness.
Educate those around you. Spread awareness not just for the illness you personally have, but the whole spoonie world.
We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor .
CFS/ME, Fibromyalgia, and Scoliosis. Possibly IBS. Depression. Married, 24. Taurus and INFJ. Demi.
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Experiments I conducted on my little sister: Part I

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I’m the second child in four. The good thing about this fact is that while growing up, siblings #1 and #3 were both suitable playmates for me. If one of them didn’t want to play, I would simply hang out with the other one. Sometimes I had the luxury of choosing between the two of them.
Sometimes, at night, when my little sister and brother were already in bed and my elder sister didn’t want to play with me, I got bored with ways of entertaining myself. So occasionally, I would quietly sneak into their room, while they were still awake. My sister slept in a loft bed. At her feet, there was a big chair. My creative brain had invented the ultimate sport: get to that chair without getting noticed by her. This was a incredibly slow process, because my sister would be able to catch me with every potential noise I would make. If she simply turned her head and glanced over at the floor she would see me. Sometimes I would lie down on the floor for minutes without moving. Sometimes I would only move one limb per minute.
At times my brother, who slept in the same room, would spot me during this process. His bed was at a normal height. I would make him into my accomplice by quietly gesturing him to keep quiet. He always played along.
When I finally reached the big chair after a long and dangerous journey from the door, I would silently climb onto it. Quietly holding my breath, I would slowly change my weight from one foot to the other, until I was standing on the arms of the chair in ducked position.
At this point, my sister would still be completely unsuspecting of what was about to happen. She was usually just staring at the ceiling, minding her own thoughts, probably thinking about rainbows and sheep.
Out of nowhere, I would jump from behind her bed and scream. As you can imagine, this caused quite a reaction. It scared the hell out of her, time and time again.
It ended up with me laughing hysterically, thinking I was the most successful and hilarious super ninja in the world, and her needing to calm down after having a heart attack. In my mind I had the mad skills of a spy, which one day would prove to be useful in my future detective career.
Then I would just hang out for a bit. We would talk about whatever was on our minds until she got tired or I got bored and I would leave again.
You might think she hated this, but in fact, she really loved it.
These dark little visits gave me an idea.
I’ve always had a curious mind. So sometimes, in order to make sense of the world around me and prove certain theories, I would make my little sister into my own personal test subject.
I had heard about a certain theory that had caught my interest. Supposedly, you dream of the things that you hear around you during your sleep. This was a fascinating concept. It would mean, that you could influence what others dream about. That was even more exciting than lucid dreaming. I decided to test if it worked.
So one night, after my younger siblings fell asleep, I sneaked into their room.
I decided that the best way to test my theory, was by whispering one word over and over again in my sister’s ear. The next day, I would ask her what she had dreamt about. It was a fail-safe plan.
Great thought went into what word I would use. I thought about using a boy’s name from her school, but this was too big a risk. She might not want to share that with me the next day. It should be a word that normally wouldn’t necessarily be in her dreams, but would be very recognizable.
I decided to go with ‘washing machine’.
My sister was lying in bed. She was already dozing off, when suddenly she heard someone hissing into her ear. She opened her eyes, bewildered.
At this point she realised that I, for some reason, was 1. awfully close to her and 2. repeatedly whispering ‘washing machine’ (with a hypnotic rhythm and tone for effect) into her ear.
While still in the middle of my experiment, my sister had clearly awakened. This wasn’t really part of the plan, but as she was awake now anyways, I eagerly asked her what she dreamt about, just now. I was desperate to know if my experiment had worked.
Anything in particular, like… perhaps… a washing machine?
I WASN’T SLEEPING. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
Disappointed with this new piece of information, I decided to confide in her. I told her of my fantastic experiment. She didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic. Clearly, she just wasn’t the kind of person who would recognise the value and beauty of a good science experiment when it is right in front of her.
Oh well. I figured I just needed to try again another time.
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Haha, I love this post! It’s definitely one of my favourites. Everrr. So much fun to read this from your point of view. I’m so going to save this and treasure it. You can illustrate a book: ‘OHANA adventures, crazy monkeys’. Going to be fun… Can’t wait for the rest of the series. ;)
Haha, I’m definitely considering drawing more ;)
Family stories are the best. This is so sweet and silly!
I loved reading this! You should make a children’s book out of this :D
:D Thanks! I have a lot more stories left, so who knows
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