Middle Child Syndrome at it's finest

My husband and I are both stereotypical first borns. We are natural leaders with a need to control a situation. We like to be the center of attention and are both very competitive. And we are also very very used to getting our own way. Being us is good. I like it.

Now my dear sweet Faitharie is a middle child all the way. She is on constant attention deprived overdrive. From the moment she wakes up until the time I finally convince her to freakin go to bed already, she is seeking affirmation that I love her and like her and want to be with her. And I can't really blame her. Corwin has been a bit needy this year with his behavioral issues and dietary changes and the whole Kindergarten thing and of course Tara the terror is the spoiled rotten baby of the family. Buuuuuuuuut sometimes I want to shoot myself just for the hospital vacation opportunity it would bring. I do love her though. She is my mini me. She reminds me so much of my mother and I raise her like I think my mother would want me to. I think about cutting her hair and I know my mother would like it longer so it stays. When she crawls into my lap while I am working on something I stop and hold her for as long as it takes and wish my mother was held more as a child. I let her play with all her gobs of fake glittery makeup (thanks inlaws) and know that my mom would have loved to indulge her in beauty salon afternoons. And when I see her smile I know that my mother is with me and I will see her again. Is that weird?

Here she is getting ready for her first no siblings invited birthday party.

Silly Ballerina

Sunday School



Man I love that girl