Monkey in the Middle

I’ve never been a fan of clichés, though I’m always humbled when one is proven so true by factors in my life. Like this one: Middle Child Syndrome. I was raised the youngest in a household with two siblings, so wasn’t familiar with this until I actually birthed (by default of my third) a middle child.

Textbook birth-order science, theories and behaviors are very intriguing to me. I’ve mostly dated/married the babies of the family, and my girlfriends, for the majority, have been the eldest sibling. I have zero idea what that means or says about moi. Just an observation. I’ll delve more into that research at a later date.

Nowadays I find the middle child so fascinating. Sure, there is the idea that the middle child is *alleged* to be ignored while stuck in the middle of the over-achieving eldest and the needy youngest. But, there are many studies that show just how strong this makes a middle child! And that the *syndrome* really can just be a result of the acknowledgment of the syndrome in the first place. Huh! Middle children are said to be strong negotiators and actually the most prepared for real-world scenarios, as they have been exposed to older and younger siblings, more conflict-resolution and peacemaking. The list goes on…..and I love the list!

My middle child has by far been the most of, as my dad would call it, a “management challenge”. Is this because she is the second child or the middle?  Or is it just because she is who she is, and I shouldn’t read too much into it? In the mornings when she is (screaming) calling for me from her bed (a good hour before anyone else wakes), I have to give myself a pep talk before walking into her room—like—okay, I’ve got this. I have to act swiftly, go in with crazy cheer and be on high alert for any flying, empty sippy cups being launched my way. Everything is a game time decision; what I suggest for her breakfast, hairstyle, attire (I’ve learned to be strategic in offering her what I *don’t* want first, in hopes she’ll pick my preference: selection B.) I keep my game sharp.

Aside from the psychological games we play with each other, she really is the most loving, kick-a$$, funny, fun kiddo. The fact that her need to be heard and constant screaming has done some mild damage to her vocals, and in turn, she has the raspy, smoker, lounge-singer voice is just icing on her cuteness cake. It’s her birthday today, so wanna say, here’s to you, little lady. You’re cranky as a mo-fo sometimes, but the most adorable, curly-headed little fireball. Keep on keepin’ us on our toes, middle child! We love yer face so much.