The Middle Child

I was the middle child growing up squeezed between two sisters. One four years older than me and the other 20 months younger. Many of the characteristics I had as a young child I see in my middle child: quiet around others, creative, determined, caring and kind.

When her younger sister was born and she became a middle child, I worried. I worried about her because she became the middle one, and not by choice. There are certain things that I hoped she would not come into contact with: the feelings of never being good enough, not getting enough attention, and the difficulty of communicating with the ones you love.

So I was determined to help my middle child not feel like one. As a toddler, I made sure I was allocating attention equally. I encouraged her creativity and provided her with the materials she needed to be creative. I told her many times a day that I loved her and really talked with her as often as I could.

And one day, when she was about five, I knew.

I knew that out of all three of my kids, she is the one that I don't need to worry about. She is self starting, motivating, street smart, and can create anything out of nothing.

Currently, she is building a rocket ship out of cardboard and tape and adding various accessories to make it more useful. Every once in a while she asks for my help. And, of course, I oblige.