middle child

August 12 is National Middle Child Day--a dilemma for those of us in the center of our families: We're not often used to having the spotlight on us.
Little Man, my soon-to-be 6-year-old, is our middle child. The only boy sandwiched between two sisters. His bubbly personality is such a joy to be around and his sensitive, sweet, side is one I pray will always remain.
And as I grow older, I have come to appreciate what the middle represents and why it is vital to a society's well being. Being the middle asks us to part with our ego and find a solution because inevitably as the middle child, you always shared a room.
I'm jealous of a dog. There, I said it and I mean it. I know what you're thinking too-- you are one pathetic human being. When it comes to attention, it's a constant need of mine. I must always be in the limelight or else I feel shitty.
Recently, I've been trying to focus on how being a middle child is a positive thing and will actually prepare my son for the real world -- more so than being the oldest or youngest.
I'm starting to buy into the whole birth order thing a little bit. You know, the one that says the first born is responsible, driven, protective. The second is the wild, daring, kick ass and take names type. The third is random, spontaneous, fun. Not much literature on the fourth or fifth because most sane families stop way before that.
She is the most determined, tough little girl I know. She doesn't take crap from anyone. She loves hard, plays hard, tries new things, doesn't give up and leaves me amazed at what she can accomplish.
It seems like a healthy indulgence for my middle child, who had the hardest time of all of us when our latest addition, Adriana, was born in August.