I was in charge of my high school aged brother for a week and I realized he is more independent then I thought
By Emily Warren
I'm sitting in my animation class, unable to concentrate because I'm anxious about whether or not they've eaten enough. Since 9 a.m. this morning, I haven't returned to my apartment.
So I sent a text message to my brother. “Hey, did you eat your lunch yet?”
He responds with a simple "yes”. That three-letter word puts me at ease immediately.
This week, I was responsible for watching my 14-year-old brother, Max, while my parents were on vacation in Hawaii. My mother had desperately wanted someone to look after him while they were gone because he had just fractured his foot. But there was a catch: we’d have to stay in my apartment.
I had agreed with hesitancy when my mom asked. My apartment is small, and on top of that, I have classes and swim practice every day, in addition to a job. But a part of me found myself saying, "Yeah, I can handle this. It's the very least I can do for my mother. How difficult could 5 days of being a mom be?”.
***
When my mother dropped him off, I became nervous as I watched him hobble up the stairs in pain, accompanied by Gus, our family dog. I began to panic as my mother began to describe her lengthy list of responsibilities that I was expected to follow while caring for him and the dog.
I quickly recognized how unprepared I was. I wanted to convince myself otherwise but I struggled to find a positive. How was I going to get through the week looking after two other beings without even having time for myself? I continually thought about the list from my mom. Throughout the week, I was constantly obsessed with my brother and dog, despite my best efforts to concentrate on myself and my own responsibilities.
Max had recently started high school and one thing my mom promptly told me was that he needed to be doing his school work since he was missing school while staying with me. I nagged at him almost every night about him being responsible about his homework. It was exhausting.
Turns out, he never had much work to actually do. For whatever reason, I had this expectation in my head that he should be spending so much time on his schoolwork when, in reality, he had completed the majority of it before I even returned to my place every night. I again, was getting worked up for nothing.
Another complication: I rarely had time to stop by the apartment to see that the dog had gone out to do his business because I was often rushing from class, job, and practice. I was concerned that my brother wouldn't be able to get down the long flight of steps to let the dog out due to his fractured foot. He was in a boot.
The first night he was here, I returned home and asked if the dog had been let out yet. He assured me that he'd been taken care of several times throughout the day. I asked how he accomplished this task. “I scooted down the stairs on my bottom and then hopped back up with one foot up,” he said, like it was nothing.
Of course he did. I'm not sure why I never considered that strategy before. He wasn't supposed to put any weight on his foot, therefore he had to get creative with how he got down the stairs. I thought to myself, “He is pretty smart.”
Another responsibility I was concerned about was taking adequate care of his foot, as he would undergo surgery as soon as my parents returned back from their vacation. I was supposed to double-check that he was elevating, icing, and taping his toes together. My mother told me before she left that if I didn't make sure he completed these things, his break could turn into something far worse.
Naturally, I was concerned under this kind of pressure from my mom and the situation. Every morning before I left for my daily responsibilities, I double-checked that he always had ibuprofen, that the ice trays were filled, that he had his wedge out for elevation, and that his tape was still in place. One morning, I was late for class and realized halfway through class that I had forgotten to give him ibuprofen or tape his foot. I was concerned and worried that he wasn't in too much pain.
I again texted him to make sure that he was alright. He responded, “I am fine. Stop worrying.”
***
That's when I understood that it’s not my job to be a mother to my 14-year-old brother. When we were growing up, I was always caring for and worried about my three younger siblings. My parents were always so overburdened with work and other obligations that I sometimes had to step in and make sure everyone was always doing okay. Now I had to take a step back and understand that I no longer needed to be worrying about them because we are all developing as different independent people and are no longer as dependent on one another as we once had been.
As I came to this realization, I realized that my role as a sister was also shifting. I no longer lived at home with my other siblings, so the position that I had been used to for years was no longer relevant. As the oldest sibling growing up at home, I was always caring for and worried about my three younger siblings. My parents were always so overburdened with work and other obligations that I sometimes had to step in and make sure everyone was always doing ok. Now I had to take a step back and understand that I no longer needed to be worrying about them because we are all developing as different independent people and are no longer as dependent on one another as we once had been.
I was causing myself unnecessary stress all week by worrying about things that didn't need to be worried about. I've realized that I do this far too frequently in many areas of my life and I needed to learn how to take a step back and concentrate on the things that really needed to be stressed about.