By Jen Slayden
I didn’t realize when we had our third child, the baby of the family, that we were simultaneously birthing another personality: the mysterious middle child.
Grace was already over four years old, but her new life began the minute she walked into the hospital room to meet her baby brother on March 7th, 2003, when she promptly stated she had wanted a sister rather than another brother.
Not much has changed in the last eight years. When I asked her about being the “monkey in the middle” of her two brothers she informed me that she doesn’t mind the placement, but that she really wanted a sister. Cade, being the sport and ham that he is, stated:
“You can borrow me anytime for a sister.”
And indeed she has. More than once when Grace was younger I found Cade in dresses and hair bows. He was the best doll ever, but he screamed bloody murder when Grace tried to put make-up on his face, and of course she got in trouble, because he is the baby.
Grace became a bit louder after Cade was born. At first I thought it was so she could be heard over the colic of a newborn baby. Alas, that has not been the case. Her amazing lung capacity, whether her little brother is around or not, continues to amplify to the point that the decibels compare to some of some rock concerts I have attended.
It is hard not to compare Grace’s middle child antics to my own family, where my older sister Kati acts much the same. Perhaps it is a girl thing more than a middle child trait, for my older brother who is the other middle child in our family of seven, has always been relatively quiet. We joke that Kati needs to get her hearing checked, and I can guarantee that if I need to find her in a crowded arena I can locate her by following the sound of her voice and the high pitch of her laugh.
Kati was always really popular when we were kids, to the point it made me feel very jealous and insecure. She tells me now that her friends were her life mainly because she didn’t have that attention at home. She had to find the love outside our house. She wore cool clothes and hung out with the hip crowd. I remember looking up to her but we never got along very well when we were younger. There just were too many times where she manipulated me. Like when she convinced me that I would be more popular if I let her give me a stylish hair cut….and then she hacked it really, really short. She was working me like a bad infomercial.
“But wait! There’s more. Along with this offer I will pluck your eyebrows down to bare skin and make you look dorkier than ever!”
Karma came back in her adulthood at a 4th of July when she was at MY house and decided to provide the grand finale fireworks show. She lost her eyebrows and eyelashes that fateful night, but luckily a visit to the ER confirmed no visual impairment. Apparently no vocal chord damage either.
Jen and Kati
But back to Grace, our middle mystery child. She fits many of the stereotypes of a middle child, such as being a peacemaker, seeking attention, and sometimes being as stubborn as a jenny mule. She can be hard to read, and I’m trying hard to solve the mystery before she reaches high school!
Our most colorful child: the middle one
Being aware of the characteristics typically associated with middle children makes me recognize that I need to make sure Grace is getting the positive attention she needs and deserves. She may be loud, she may need some extra special attention, she may be stubborn, but it’s all good. She is smart like J.F.K, beautiful like Julia Roberts, and funny like Rosie O’Donnell — who all happen to be middle children.
My sister is one of my best friends these days, because I understand her much better as an adult. And I don’t let her cut my hair anymore. In fact, she just treated me on my birthday to a spa day, including a haircut. Perhaps the fighting of our youth has finally payed off!
There is an added bonus for Grace having my sister in town. If I am not getting through to my only daughter she can call Aunt Kati to go out for lunch where they can lament vociferously the woes of being a middle child. We all need support, after all.
This is part 2 of 3 in a series of Birth Order. If you missed last week click here.
Check back next week for Birth-order: firstborn.
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Love this…I find myself often over-analyzing the birth order traits of my three…can’t wait to read the rest of the series. My youngest is now 20 months, and I feel the dynamics just starting to take shape. I can tell you from my experience, the volume is not just a girl thing. My middle child is my only son, and holy smokes is he ever loud! I honestly marvel at his pipes sometimes, even his whisper is loud….which is just like his father…the middle child of three boys. Thanks for the early morning laugh.
Julie…that is so funny “even his whisper is loud….just like his father.”
Mark (my hubby) has the LOUDEST whisper too, and voice. I always think Grace has his voice….
3 boys. Wow. You deserve a gold metal. It will be interesting to see how the dynamics develop. Good luck, and thanks so much for stopping by!
Jen
Jenn– this is a great idea for a series– I can’t wait to read them all. You are such a mentor for many of us!
elke
Elke,
THank you! I may even have to repeat this series down the line…there are SO many stories from childhood that are so stereotypical of birth order. And I’m collecting more from my kids every day:)
Jen
This reminds me of an article written by Erma Bombeck that my grandmother had framed on her bedroom wall. I hope you don’t mind that I posted it here.
I’ve Always Loved You Best
To the first born……
I’ve always loved you best because you were our first miracle. You were the genesis of a marriage, the fulfillment of young love, the promise of our infinity.
You sustained us through the hamburger years. The first apartment furnished in Early Poverty… our first mode of transportation (1955 feet)… the 7-inch TV set we paid on for 36 months.
You wore new, had unused grandparents and more clothes than a Barbie doll. You were the “original model” for unsure parents trying to work the bugs out. You got the strained lamb, open pins and three-hour naps.
You were the beginning.
To the middle child…
I’ve always loved you the best because you drew the dumb spot in the family and it made you stronger for it.
You cried less, had more patience, wore faded and never in your life did anything “first,” but it only made you more special. You are the one we relaxed with and realized a dog could kiss you and you wouldn’t get sick. You could cross the street by yourself long before you were old enough to get married, and the world wouldn’t come to an end if you went to bed with dirty feet.
You were the continuance.
To the baby…
I’ve always loved you the best because endings generally are sad and you are such a joy. You readily accepted milk stained bibs. The lower bunk. The cracked baseball bat. The baby book, barren but for a recipe for graham pie crust that someone jammed between the pages.
You are the one we held onto so tightly. For, you see, you are the link with the past that gives a reason to tomorrow. You darken our hair, quicken our steps, square our shoulders, restore our vision, and give us humor that security and maturity can’t give us.
When your hairline takes on the shape of Lake Erie and your children tower over you, you will still be “the baby.”
You were the culmination.
Melissa,
I absolutely love this take it! Thank you so much for sharing. Lots of wisdom there….I can see why it was framed. xo
OK, so since I am that middle child, I better comment!!!! Wow, such memories….but, you being the “baby” and “perfect” child did bring out the devil in me. I love how you allowed the what comes around goes around piece happen with this….the hair cuts and the 4th of July! PAYBACKS!!! Sadly, I still do at times envy you…as the youngest child. All the other siblings will refer to you as the youngest …the baby and will baby you until you are 80 or 90…. I will just continue as the “black sheep” which in many families I think the middle child ends up being. The good new is, Grace is lucy enough to have a “cool” mom that realizes some of these things and will be sure that she is given the “best part” of the cookie…the middle part…the frosting! In some ways he being the only girl will one day be a good thing. Nice work, Jen..you are amazing…I am the middle child!!! xxoo Your sis
Ha! Like the cookie analogy. you could totally work that one:)
I want the frosting….give it to me give it to me!!!!! I will cry if you don’t!
I am thankful for you, and for you being in the middle. I can’t imagine it any other way!
xo
” Apparently no vocal chord damage either.” That makes me laugh out loud! I love the take! I was born into a family of five girls and avery similar dynamic. Keep writing Jen, I’ll keep reading!
I can imagine what it would have been like to have five girls together. Loud wouldn’t even describe it! What I really want to know is:
How many bathrooms did you have in your childhood home?????
Thanks for your never-ending support, friend!
xo
Bahahahahahahahhahaha! This is hilarious! “But wait! There’s more!” I’m so pleased to know that Kati’s vision wasn’t impaired…or her voice, lol. And I love that Grace can call her to commiserate. LOVE this!
Wow, this fits my own daughter, a middle child, to a T! Wonderful post, very insightful.
Jen: Really interesting. I didn’t even really know all these similar characteristics existed for middle children. It is really kind of fascinating how these traits play out across the board. Great idea for a series and great post.