After 20 years, 4 months, and 5 days, I am no longer of the "only child society." I, though, did not find out about this until a few days later, midway through my finals. My father had called earlier, to tell me that his wife was most likely going to give birth on Friday the 8th or Saturday the 9th, but never actually called to tell me that it had, in fact, happened. My little brother weighed in at 8 pounds, 9 ounces at birth. Fairly large, but not so impressive to my father, who saw my newborn self tipping the scales at 10 lbs., 4 oz.

I'm writing this on December 26, 2000, because I needed time to collect my thoughts. Most of my friends ask me questions like, "How do you feel about this?" or "Are you okay with this?" and most of my responses have been similar to "Feel about it? Okay, I guess," or "Yeah, I'm okay with it," when I truly did not feel much about this. It's hard for me to comprehend the fact that I've got a sibling. I can no longer make the claim, "I'm an only child-- yes, I'm a spoiled brat." Now I can only claim that I'm a spoiled brat without reason.

Now having a baby around the house makes life a little interesting. Neither my father nor his wife have had time to do Christmas shopping, but I did score three sweaters. The baby cries every two hours, like clockwork, to get food. I would think it's rather gratifying to be a baby. As soon as he lets out a cry, either my father or his mother or I come running to see if he's okay. So much attention with so little effort.