Fair To Middling

Every parent I know worries about spending enough quality time with their children, either because of work commitments or because they have more than one child and, understandably, want to give each the same amount of attention.  I’m no exception.

I wasn’t consciously thinking about this on Sunday but, on a whim, I asked our middle son to come with me to take the dog for a walk, as the eldest was busy doing homework and the youngest was having a nap.

To make it more of an ‘event’, I whispered into his ear conspiratorially, saying that no-one else was allowed to come because I wanted him all to myself and it was going to be ‘Max and Mummy’ time.  You’ve never seen a more excited nearly four year old.

And as I looked at his gorgeous little face, with his eyes all bright and his dimpled cheeks flushed with anticipation, I thought to myself…’Oh, shit, what if he’s got Middle Child Syndrome?’

I’ve never paid much attention to this theory in the past; I always wanted three children and just thought that I’d make sure they knew they were love equally, simple as that.

I’m also of the opinion that every child thinks they have some sort of cross to bear; the eldest feels his/her parents road-test all their mistakes on them to know better for next time and they can also feel that younger children get more freedom and less responsibility.

A youngest child can feel babied, patronised and frustrated that they’re not trusted as much as older siblings or are always held up in comparison against them.

An only child can feel isolated and miss the company of siblings and a middle child?  Well, according to internet research, a middle child can apparently, to put it mildly, become really f***ed up if their parents aren’t careful.  Uh-oh.

On Sunday though, I didn’t analyse it and we just had fun together.  (That was before my guilt trip had snowballed into monstrous proportions, before I’d decided to look to the internet to confirm that I’m going to burn in hell for having three children and therefore subjecting one of them to be the dreaded ‘middle child’).

We went on an adventure off the beaten path (not the best idea as it was inch-thick in mud), we ran fast down hills, we pretended to be Ben 10 and rescue each other from man-eating spiders(!) and then we went on the park and religiously played on every single piece of apparatus.

We chatted lots (although not all of it made sense) and he was generally delightful and truly excellent company, not just on the walk but for the rest of the day. He was also lovely on Monday and played nicely with his brothers (so there, internet people, he’s not a ‘loner’ or ‘isolated’).

Then on Tuesday…he was spectacularly difficult, with the repetitive ability of a Duracell bunny, crying at every little thing, winding his brothers up and playing up at bedtime.

Did he do all this because he’s a middle child and because he has ‘trust issues’ and the ‘insecurity of feeling ignored’?

Possibly.  Or maybe he was just tired.  It might even be because he’s not yet four and his ego and sense of self is still developing.

Will he grow up to be a ‘risk-taker’ to try to ‘find his own sense of direction’?  More than likely.  But he’s a confident little soul so maybe that’s just his personality (my husband and I have both been adrenaline junkies in the past so he may just take after us).

Will I worry about it?  Probably.  But I’ll try not to.  I’ll just keep telling all three of them how much I love them and try to shout at them the same amount (I don’t want anyone to feel left out).  I’ll also attempt to split my time and attention as equally as I can and hope for the best.

The only thing I will take away from my research is that middle children sometimes feel they have less photos taken of them so from now on I’m taking my camera EVERYWHERE.  He’s not bloody pinning THAT on me when he’s older.  His therapist will already be blaming me for everything else as it is 🙂