I grew up in NYC in the 1960s as an only child of a divorced mom. My mom worked 3 jobs at one point to keep me in school. I don’t think my father contributed much, if anything. I was an only child—and most of my school friends were also onlies and/or had divorced parents. My mom wasn’t social, so it amazes me how many kids were in the same boat as I. So I didn’t have a lot of experience with usual family dynamics. My aunt and uncle had 4 kids; 3 boys followed by a girl. They lived overseas when they were young, so they came into my life when I was about 8 or 9. I used to visit on weekends, there was lots of things going on and lots of loud voices and yelling—I always thought they were angry! I’d had no experience with sibling rivalry or jealousy or competition.

So when I got married in my mid-thirties, we had already decided that we were going to have more than 1 child (he said 3, I said 2: he won) because I didn’t want my children to have the only child dynamic. (I married an only too).

So despite having no experience with siblings; I made them.