A Lose-Lose Situation? When Your Parents Announce Baby Number Eight
Hello, dear reader! Gather ’round, for today I have quite a tale from the digital town square of Reddit. Our protagonist? A 16-year-old hero (let’s call him Mike) whose life experiences argue he should get a knight’s knighting for bravery. Without further ado, let’s dive headlong into the labyrinthine world of familial dynamics, financial constraints, and the complex business of unplanned siblings. Hold on to your seats because this one’s a wild ride.
Meet The Crowd: Mike’s Family
Mike, the unsung hero of our story, lives with his parents and a veritable baseball team of siblings. Here’s a quick rundown: Mike (16m), Cayla (13f), Robin (12m), Sam (10m), Laci (8f), Zoe (6f), and, of course, the family’s latest baby sensation, Robbie (4m). Mike’s parents, bless their hopeful hearts, only intended to have two kids. Guess they missed the memo on comprehensive family planning, huh? In their defense, I suppose they thought the universe didn’t hear them say “we’re done” seven times.
The House of Many Tasks
Mike isn’t just any teenager; no, he’s the Atlas holding up his entire family’s world. At the tender age of 13, he started working to fund his essential needs. His first goal? A laptop. Why? Because when school went remote, the family’s lack of internet and basic tech became glaringly obvious. Imagine trying to attend Zoom classes through smoke signals and carrier pigeons! Additionally, dear Mike finds himself babysitting and managing the household more often than a full-time nanny. Why? His parents are working nonstop trying to keep this oversized ship of theirs afloat.
Just When Things Were Looking Up…
Living in this semi-chaotic hodgepodge, Mike had begun to harbor dreams of his own. He fancied becoming a chef, maybe picking up some professional cooking skills sans a formal college education because, let’s face it, this family isn’t winning any financial lotteries. But then, on a seemingly unremarkable Monday, his parents decided to drop a bombshell: They were expecting baby numero ocho. Cue the internal screaming.
Mike’s Meltdown (A Truly Sympathetic Endeavor)
Despite knowing for weeks, Mike’s parents waited until the mother was 14 weeks into her pregnancy to reveal the news. Mike’s siblings, bless their innocent hearts, were surprised but mostly clueless. Mike, dignified as any 16-year-old juggling the weight of the world, could not restrain his shock and dismay. His reaction? A heart-wrenching “Not again!” and a temperature tears slipped out (yeah, big tough guys cry sometimes, sue him!). Sounds reasonable, right? Oh, but his parents didn’t think so.
They expected him to fall in line, focus on “making things okay,” and abandon his “negative attitude.” Because nothing screams functional family dynamics like laying guilt trips on your de facto third parent of a teenage son. They even pushed the old “accidents happen” card and “we’d never abort” monologue. Not exactly a Hallmark moment if you ask me.
Where’s All the Lovey-Doveyness?
Here’s something society tends to gloss over: Money matters. Sure, ‘love conquers all’ is a nice sentiment but have you tried paying for groceries with hugs? It doesn’t work. And Mike, taking on the role of a junior breadwinner while juggling school and a complex household, can’t exactly be handed a participation trophy and patted on the back. He’s got real concerns, okay?
Roger’s 2-Cents and a Reality Check
Alright, Mike. Here’s my sassy, heartfelt appraisal: You, my friend, are not the antagonist of this saga. You’re caught in a relentless tug-of-war between familial devotion and self-preservation. And trust me, the scales are skewing grossly in favor of you being a victim of circumstance.
Your parents’ decision to add another mouth to feed while you’re struggling to stay afloat is, let’s say, less than ideal. It’s high time they get a long, hard look in the mirror and acknowledge that, while love is essential, so are stability and a smidgeon of financial planning. Asking you to put on your rose-tinted glasses and hop onto the positivity bandwagon is like asking a fish to fly – utterly unreasonable.
So, no, you’re not the jerk. You’re the voice of reason in a cacophony of misplaced optimism. Rattle those cages! Hold your ground! You deserve dreams and a future unburdened by other people’s reckless decisions.
And if any parents out there are reading this? Take a page from Mike’s grim but honest book. Sometimes the best gift you can give your existing children is the energy, love, and resources they need to flourish, without continually stretching yourself thinner than a Hollywood diet coke model.
Keep roaring, Mike. The world needs more people who speak their truth.
Original story
My parents have 7 kids. There’s me (16m), Cayla (13f), Robin (12m), Sam (10m), Laci (8f), Zoe (6f) and Robbie (4m).
They only ever intended to have two kids and even with me and Cayla alone, they’d still struggle. My parents don’t have great jobs.
We never had much space in our house to begin with and now we’re all crammed in. I started working at 13 to get money so I could pay for stuff I needed, like a laptop, which I didn’t have access to when my school first shut down.
We didn’t even have internet then. My parents swore they were done with Robbie and they’d get us back on track and that I wouldn’t need to work just to pay for stuff I needed for school.
The weight of being the oldest is already a lot and I have paid for stuff before. I babysit so my parents can work nights or get a break.
I take care of the house most days so they can focus on earning money. But it’s a lot and we’re really too big of a family for what we can actually afford.
My parents get help from the government but it doesn’t go far because they’re not good with money or with buying groceries.
When no baby came right after Robbie I thought they were serious and I started to think about my future. I’d love to learn to cook better and work in a restaurant.
Not college exactly because we could never afford it and my grades aren’t good enough but something.
Then Monday my parents sat us down and told us they’re having another baby and mom is like 14 weeks pregnant. They knew for 7 weeks and didn’t want to tell us until they were ready.
My siblings were mostly surprised but me? I said not again.
I think I even cried a little which caught me off guard because I’m not a crier usually. This was apparently enough to break me though.
My parents got so angry at me and told me to check my attitude. I told them they gave me this attitude by being so reckless and putting so much on me and now they’ve broken their promise and we’re going to struggle even more than before.
They told me to stop acting like they’re doing something to me, that accidents happen and they’d never abort, even if they could. They told me to focus on making things okay and less on being so negative.
I know people say that having money isn’t as important as long as you have a loving family and maybe that’s true for some people. But mine feel like a weight I have to carry and not something I’m blessed with.
They’re a responsibility on me, a burden really. And maybe that’s awful to say but it’s how I really feel.
I hate worrying about what’ll happen if they can’t afford the bills or if my laptop breaks and I can’t afford to fix it or get a new one. Or what if we can’t afford food or we can but I have to pay for groceries instead of save.
AITA?