Let me start by saying: My middle daughter is an amazing girl.
I’ve been writing this column for two and a half years now; this is my 30th one. I have three young daughters and my second-born has frequently pointed out to me that I have never written a column centered around her. This is true, but not deliberate.
She isn’t the oldest child, the one whose milestones are celebrated in a big way. I’ve often written about my oldest’s firsts and how they were also my firsts as a mommy.
She isn’t the youngest child, the one who will always be the adorable baby of the family and who can never do wrong. I may have mentioned this in past columns as well.
My husband and I are well aware of the “middle child syndrome” and we try our very best to make sure our middle girl does not feel neglected or the need to fight for attention. My husband is one of three siblings and is a middle child, himself. (I’m the youngest of three.) He has shared with our middle daughter what his mother told him when he was younger: While his other siblings’ roles were a little more defined — the responsible leader, the cherished last child — he would have to carve out his own path.
Our middle is already doing that, standing out in her own right. She’s adventurous, creative and generous. She cares about the well-being of those in need and our environment. She has a deep dimple on her right cheek that melts my heart every time she smiles. Plus, as she has proudly noted, she’s the only one of her siblings who knows what it’s like to be both an older sister and a younger one. She is most definitely special.
She recently celebrated her 10th birthday (yay, double digits!) and instead of a party, she opted for a full day of shopping with me. It was a win-win for the two of us: I got to spend one-on-one time with my tween — another chance to shower her with undivided attention. And she got to buy lots of stuff with her birthday money.
When we took a shopping break for lunch at the restaurant of her choice, I took that time as an opportunity to once again remind her how much she means to us. She is valued and worthy of the world, and we never want her to doubt that. We see her and we’re proud of the person she is.
Because the last thing any mother or father wants is a child who feels ignored or feels the need to try extra hard to get noticed by her own parents.
So I tell her often how loved she is by all of us. I reinforce what I say with lots of hugs and kisses, and some tickle time, too. She is amazing. I want her to know this forever.
Now it’s also in writing.
“She Speaks” is a column by women writers of the Honolulu Star-Advertiser. Reach Zenaida Serrano at zserrano@staradvertiser.com.
