I have three daughters and if you ask my middle child, Ashton, she will tell you exactly where she falls in the lineup.
Not her age, her grade or even her birthday. She simply replies, “I’m the middle child.”
She says it with the same solemnity one might use to announce they’re carrying the weight of the world on their tiny shoulders.
Recently, I was making sandwiches for lunch. I had barely opened the bread when Ashton looked at me and said, “You’re probably making mine last because I’m the middle child.”
I hadn’t made a single sandwich. I hadn’t even gotten out the peanut butter, but somehow, in her mind, she had already been slighted.
I laughed because this child has fully embraced her role as “the middle child.” If something goes missing, it’s because she’s the middle child. If one of her sisters gets called first, it’s because she’s the middle child. If I ask her to put her shoes on, somehow, some way, it’s because she’s the middle child.
The funny thing is, Ashton acts more like me than any of my children. She’s emotional, expressive and feels everything deeply (and I mean everything!)
If someone else’s feelings are hurt, her feelings are hurt too. If someone is crying, you better believe she’s crying, too. If someone feels left out? Not on her watch.
She’ll move over on the couch, share the last piece of candy or invite the child standing alone into the game without even thinking twice. She has this incredible ability to carry other people’s emotions as if they were her own.
She is the most sensitive of my three girls, but she’s also the most loving.
She notices when someone is sad. She remembers things that matter to people. She worries about everyone else before she worries about herself. Her heart is so big that sometimes I think it must be exhausting to carry around.
And maybe that’s why I chuckle every time she blames something on being the middle child because while she thinks being the middle child means she’s overlooked, from where I’m standing, it means she’s right in the middle of everything that matters.
She’s the one making sure everyone is included. She’s the one checking on everyone else’s feelings. She’s the one reminding us all to be a little kinder.
So yes, my sweet Ashton, you are the middle child, but you’re also our soft place to land, our little empath and one of the most loving people I’ve ever known and if the world had a few more middle children like you in it, I think we’d all be a little better off.
(Paige Gurgainers is a mom of three girls, digital journalist for Webster Parish Journal.)