The Birth Order Book (37 page)

Interestingly, Krissy has been very friendly and outgoing almost since the day she discovered her older sister, Holly, and the reality that she would never have Mom and Dad all to herself. Krissy is a graphic example of how the secondborn can play off the firstborn and take off in another direction.

Holly’s always been on top of her game—a very competent English teacher and also in charge of the curriculum of the school for grades K–12. Kids like her. Other teachers and parents like her. She’s a structured firstborn who can come off as very serious and sometimes Judge Judy–like, but she has a warm heart and compassion for others.

You would get the impression, from looking at Krissy’s room as she grew up, that she is a very orderly person, but she is certainly not a perfectionist. She has always had a hang-loose, relaxed approach to life.

Her first day at kindergarten was a day my wife will never forget. With some trepidation, Sande put Krissy on a morning bus, said a “Thank you for taking care of her” prayer, and went back home to try to keep her mind on the morning’s tasks.

She wasn’t trying to be disrespectful; she was simply being her easygoing, sociable self.

Meanwhile, Krissy went to kindergarten and apparently had a great day. At 11:45 a.m. the kindergarten bus stopped in front of the house, and two other little tykes who lived in the neighborhood got off. Krissy did not.

To her credit, Sande waited almost forty-five minutes before she hit the panic button. Surely, she thought, another bus would be along soon. When none appeared, she called the school. The principal informed her that Krissy had gotten on the bus, and he couldn’t understand why she hadn’t gotten off at her house.

At this point, Sande forgot all about keeping up appearances and looking as if she had child rearing under control.

She went a little crazy. Failing to reach me at the office because I was out somewhere, she started calling everyone she could think of to ask if they had seen Krissy. Between calls, the phone rang.

“Hi, Mom, this is Krissy.”

“Krissy! Where
are
you?”

“I’m at my best friend’s house.”

“Honey,
where are you
?
Whose
house are you at?”

Krissy put down the phone. “What’s your name again?” Sande could hear her saying.

It turned out that “what’s her name” was Jennifer—a little girl Krissy had met for the first time that first day in kindergarten. Jennifer’s house was on the way home, and Krissy had decided to get off the bus and visit with her new friend. It had never occurred to her that Mom might be worried when she didn’t get off the bus at our stop. She wasn’t trying to be disrespectful; she was simply being her easygoing, sociable self.

Krissy Started Floating at 18 Months

Actually, Krissy was laid-back and easygoing even earlier than kindergarten. I can recall an 18-month-old Krissy swimming with the aid of floaties attached to her shoulders. Older kids were all over the pool, diving, splashing, making waves, and Krissy was out in the middle of it, just enjoying life. It seems Krissy has always gone along with whatever comes her way.

Holly, her older sister, has always taken the much more serious approach to things, which is typical of perfectionists. Holly
never
got off the kindergarten bus or any other bus before her stop. She always came straight home because rules are rules. Today, at age 36, Holly lives by the code or lifestyle she developed while growing up, which all conscientious people know instinctively—rules are rules. Holly is thoughtful and analytical; she was always an excellent student and voracious reader. Today she is a gifted teacher and still a voracious reader. Holly has lots of friends, but some of her closest friends are books.

Krissy is like her father. It always was an effort to read anything, and it still is. There’s too much of life out there waiting to be tasted and enjoyed. Krissy would rather read people than books. She’s a good example of hard work paying off. Schoolwork did not come as easily for Krissy as it did for her older sister, but she still did exceptionally well and graduated in four years flat from college, for which her father and his accountant give her heartfelt thanks!

The only child, the firstborn child, and the baby all stick out rather prominently, but the middle child sort of blends in like a quail in the desert.

So all this makes Krissy a typical middle child, right? Well, partly right. If you review the list of characteristics of middle children in chapter 8, you will see it is riddled with contradictions. One column tells us middle children are sociable, friendly, and outgoing. Krissy certainly fits all three of those. But another column says middle children are also characterized as loners, quiet, and shy.

The chart also describes middle children as taking life in stride with a laid-back attitude. That’s Krissy most of the time. Underneath that blithe countenance, however, is a sensitive woman who can be stubborn and very hard to deal with if you get her riled. (Just ask her younger brother, Kevin, who used to flee before Krissy’s wrath before he grew up to be 6'3''.)

So Krissy presents her share of paradoxes and contradictions and illustrates nicely the idea that it’s harder to get a handle on the middle child than on anyone else in the family. The only child, the firstborn child, and the baby all stick out rather prominently, but the middle child sort of blends in like a quail in the desert.

Middle children follow their own version of Murphy’s Law:
I’m going to live according to what I see just above me in the family. I’ll size up the situation and then take the route that looks the best.

Keying on Big Sister or Brother

The same principles that apply to the secondborn are usually equally applicable to the middleborn. Like secondborns, middle children follow their own version of Murphy’s Law:
I’m going to live according to what I see just above me in the family. I’ll size up the situation and then take the route that looks the best.
The key to this middle child principle is “what I see just above me in the family.” The second child looks above to the firstborn, and in a family of four, the thirdborn looks above to the secondborn to get a clue on which route to take. For example, let’s consider this family of four children:

The same principles that apply to the secondborn are usually equally applicable to the middleborn.

Family K

Girl—16, firstborn female

Boy—14, firstborn male

Girl—12, middle child

Girl—10, baby

In this family, the 12-year-old is the true middle child, squeezed from above by an older brother (and an older sister, for that matter) and squeezed from below by her baby sister. For the most part, she will cue on her older brother to choose her lifestyle, but her firstborn sister will also have some influence.

Let’s take one more example to see how spacing in the family may eliminate a true middle child altogether:

Family L

Boy—18, firstborn male

Girl—17, firstborn female

Girl—15, middle child?

Boy—8, baby

In this family, the thirdborn—a girl—appears to be the middle child, but is she really? She looks above to her firstborn brother and sister to get clues on which route to take to form her personal life goal and theme, but what about below? Her baby brother did not appear on the scene until she was 7 years old, and by then her personality and lifestyle were already determined. For the first seven life-forming years, she was baby of the family, and the odds are excellent that she will have many lastborn characteristics and few middle child traits because she never felt that squeeze when it really counted—during those all-important early years.

If there is one generalization you can make about middle children, it’s that they feel squeezed and/ or dominated.

Feeling Squeezed

While Family L above doesn’t have a true middle child, many other families do. And if there is one generalization you can make about middle children, it’s that they feel squeezed and/ or dominated. It’s important for parents to be extra aware that the middle child often feels as if “everyone is running my life.” Not only does the middle child have a set of parents in authority over him, but he or she has an older sibling right there also.

It’s important for parents to be extra aware that the middle child often feels as if “everyone is running my life.”

If the older sibling is close in age (within two or three years), he or she is almost sure to tell the middle child what to do. And of course just below the middle child is the baby of the family, who seems to be getting away with murder. The middle child feels trapped. He or she is too young for the privileges received by the older sibling and too old to get away with the shenanigans of the baby in the family.

With these pressures from above and below, middle children wind up feeling like fifth wheels, misfits who have no say and no control. Everyone else seems to be making the decisions, while they are asked to sit, watch, and obey.

When only 8 years old, Krissy gave Sande and me a taste of how sensitive the middle child can be when parents make decisions for her. With her little lip jutting out and tears trickling down her cheeks, Krissy confronted her mother about a class in creative dramatics that Sande had enrolled her in a few days before. Our sensitive middle child let her mother know in no uncertain terms how unfair it was to be signed up for creative dramatics and to not even know about it! I happened to walk in on the conversation and asked, “But Krissy, don’t you enjoy dramatics?”

“I love it!” (sob)

I laughed and said, “Then why are you getting on Mom’s case?”

“You might think it’s funny, but I don’t think it’s so funny. How would you like me to sign Mommy up for swimming lessons?”

Krissy’s extremely perceptive remark stopped me short. We have a backyard pool, and Sande gets in it about twice a year to get wet. If Krissy or her dad tried to sign Sande up for swimming lessons, either one of us would wind up in the pool without the benefit of a bathing suit. I got Krissy’s point and then some. She wanted to do her
own
enrolling in creative dramatics. She didn’t need Mommy’s help!

When telling seminar audiences this story, I hasten to point out that it’s important to ask the opinions of
all
your children, not just the middleborns. Giving a child of any birth order a chance to choose and decide for himself or herself is a critical part of developing self-esteem and a sense of responsibility and accountability. But for parents of extra-sensitive middle children, the moral is clear: always ask middle children for their opinions and let them make their own decisions whenever possible.

Help the Middle Child Feel Special

So far this chapter sounds as if we should throw a big pity party for all middle children. What hope is there for poor little middleborn Mildred or Milford who wander off to find friends because they are fifth wheels at home? What can parents do for these kids who are such sensitive bundles of contradiction, who supposedly feel squeezed and dominated as adults ignore their opinions and make all their decisions for them?

Always ask middle children for their opinions and let them make their own decisions whenever possible.

One of the ways I have always tried to make Krissy feel special is by taking her out to breakfast on her birthday. When she was growing up, May 16 on my calendar was completely cleared of appointments. The reason was simple: May 16 is Krissy’s birthday, and we went out to breakfast together. If it was a school day, I’d take her to breakfast, then later I’d pick her up for lunch and take her to one of the classy places she enjoyed, like McDonald’s.

We have always been big especially on cakes at our house—rainbow cakes, space cakes, Charlie Brown cakes—
anything is possible on your birthday!

Naturally there were two more inviolate dates on my calendar each year, November 14 and February 8. After all, Holly and Kevin also enjoyed choosing where they would eat, what kind of cake they would have, and so on. We have always been big especially on cakes at our house—rainbow cakes, space cakes, Charlie Brown cakes—
anything is possible on your birthday!
After Hannah and Lauren joined the Leman band, two other dates became equally important— June 30 and August 22. (You may observe that if the Lemans had had more kids, there would have been very little time left in the year to work.)

But I have to say that of all our children, Krissy was (and still is, for that matter) the most sensitive about having Daddy to herself on her birthday. In fact, on Krissy’s ninth birthday when we were having breakfast together, a businessman walked by, recognized me, and said, “Aren’t you Dr. Leman?”

I said I was, and he went on, “I’m so glad I caught you. Today is when I’m supposed to be writing you a note inviting you to talk to our conference next year on May 16.”

The moment he said “May 16,” I knew we had a problem. I was waiting for an opening to let him know that May 16 was my daughter’s birthday and I simply wasn’t available, but he was going on in such grand style, describing the beautiful resort where the conference would be held and how everyone would love to have me come and share, that I found it hard to interrupt.

Krissy, on the other hand, did not find it as difficult to interrupt. As the businessman went on, she became more and more agitated. Finally, she poked me in the ribs and said, “My daddy can’t come!”

This wasn’t very good behavior for the daughter of someone supposedly skilled in reality discipline, so I said, “Now wait a minute, Krissy. Daddy and this man are talking . . .”