The other day while I was putting my 8-year-old daughter, Eva, to bed, she let out a sigh, looked at me, and said, “Being a big sister is a lot of responsibility.” My heart immediately sank. This is a weight many oldest siblings carry, but I worry that Eva’s feels a little heavier because her little sister is autistic, which has required Eva to adapt in ways that, frankly, aren’t always fair. And while she never hesitates to step in and help with her sister (often without even being asked), I never want her to feel like it’s her job to be her sister’s caretaker.

My husband and I are both the babies of our families, so it’s not uncommon for Eva to share with us how it feels to be the bigger sibling. She knows her experience is unique to the rest of us, but I don’t know if she totally grasps that this isn’t what every big sister goes through. We have to ask a lot of her: patience when her sister’s having a meltdown, flexibility and understanding when it seems like we have different rules for her and her sister, and maturity to help in hard situations when her dad and I aren’t around.

By nature, Eva is kind and compassionate and fiercely protective of the things she loves (she won’t even kill a bug). She’s also a people-pleaser and a perfectionist, which means she’s a kid who follows the rules and is always eager to be helpful.

As her mom, I’m so proud of the person she is, and I am grateful that I can count on her, but I’m intentional in making sure it never gets to a point where I rely on her. There’s an obvious love and friendship between my daughters, so it’s comforting to know that her actions don’t seem to be entirely out of obligation. But I know that I have to be careful about how much I help I accept — the last thing I want is for her to start resenting me or, worse, her sister.

Still, despite my best efforts, there are times when I do rely on Eva. For example, our youngest daughter has an IEP and good support systems in place at school. But when school is out and I have to send them to day camps, it’s another story. During camp enrollment, my husband and I always take the time to fill out extra paperwork and try to give as much detailed information about our youngest as possible, but we can’t prepare them for everything, and if Eva’s there and sees her sister having a meltdown, I know she can step in. I obviously don’t love putting an 8-year-old in this position, but our work schedules mean we don’t have much choice in the matter.

How do I teach her to embrace and celebrate her caring, compassionate, and thoughtful side while still taking care of herself in the process? How do I teach her to have boundaries when there are occasions when I still very much need her to help? Her job is to be a kid who has a little sister; she’s not meant to fill the role of a parent, a teacher, or a camp counselor. I never want her to feel like we expect her to be anything but the sweet kid she is.

Worrying about my daughter being too helpful is probably one of the most ridiculous-sounding concerns I’ve had as a mom, but I stand by it. And we will figure it out as we go.

Ashley Ziegler is a freelance writer living outside Raleigh, NC, with her two young daughters and husband. She’s written across a range of topics throughout her career but especially loves covering all things pregnancy, parenting, lifestyle, advocacy, and maternal health.