Firstborn

There are two little words we've been hearing constantly over the past week: "tout seul!"
Translated, this means "by myself!", and it is the new catchphrase of our strong, independent, I-am-no-longer-a-baby-didn't-anybody-notice? firstborn child, BB.
It is fascinating, and highly endearing, to watch as he struggles to take his own coat off, put his own socks on, brush his own teeth... The joy of succeeding in each of these little tasks provokes a wide, proud smile... and the frustration of failure a stomp and a sulk.

As a fellow firstborn child, I have to say that I feel such tenderness as I witness this desire to be grown up. Is it a trait of all firstborns to copy the adults, do away with all manner of childish things and express a fierce will to do it all "by myself"?
I think so, to some extent.
Your place in the family hierarchy probably determines the rate at which you "grow up". BB has always looked to the adults for inspiration; LB looks to his 2 year-old brother, so the gap is smaller, the pressure less.

The other day, as we ambled along the street, BB, LB and I, an elderly lady stopped to pat BB affectionately on the head.
"Ca va, bébé?" she asked, smiling.
"Non," BB told her squarely, as though explaining the obvious to the simple-minded "c'est pas moi le bébé, c'est lui!"
And thus he pointed to his little brother, popped his own dummy back into his mouth, and strode off, looking almost like a stroppy teenager.
Almost. But not quite.