I Am My Own Cousin.

Chapter 16: Middle Child Syndrome

By: Judi

I am the middle child. Not a triplet, but not quite one of the "little kids." I spent my childhood trying to fit in with the triplets, but failed miserably due to their close relationships with one another and my being two years younger than they were. For several years, Joanna idolized me and we were inseparable. She followed me around everywhere I went and mimicked every decision I made. Our favorite game to play was "school." While the older girls were at school, we were left to our imaginations and created our own lesson plans to teach. We posed our stuffed animals and dolls as students and made them move from class to class as we taught them all we knew about each subject. During this period, I had a friend among my family members; it was the time in my life when I felt most accepted.

Once I started attending kindergarten, I lost my close connection with Joanna. She quickly replaced me with Justin and they became best friends. The triplets ignored me, because I was a pesky little kid. I didn't fit in with any of my siblings anymore. I began feeling the real impact of the middle child curse.

I was quite a clumsy kid. There was rarely a day that went by when I didn't scrape, burn, or cut an appendage. When we lived in the shop, we did not have a stove range or an oven, so we relied on using a tabletop electric griddle. I had an affinity for grilled cheese sandwiches and one day decided to make myself a sandwich. In the middle of culinary greatness, I knocked the blazing hot griddle off the counter and onto my forearms. I remember it being very severe and painful (probably more than it actually was) and was convinced that my arms would have to be amputated, due to being burnt beyond repair. Since both of my arms are still intact, I can ease the suspense and tell you that I survived the incident. However, Burns I received from being pushed onto a kerosene heater were far more severe than the griddle.

 I was the scapegoat for the triplets anytime they thought they were going to get in trouble. One day, we were all standing around the kerosene heater and making "lemonade" (Lemon juice heated in plastic Kool-Aid cups). The plastic began melting over the heater and causing an awful stench. Instead of owning up to breaking the rule forbidding us from going around the heater, Jenny pushed me onto it. The plan was twofold, the screams would distract Mom from the melted plastic and provide irrefutable proof that I was in the vicinity of the heater at the time of the transgression.  Sadly, I did not learn my lesson from this assault; every consecutive winter my hands were covered in burns.   

I had many career aspirations as a child. Ranging from cosmetologist to weather reporter, I had big dreams. I set up a salon in a spare room in the shop and solicited my family members for business. I didn't actually have the slightest idea how to cut hair and couldn't have successfully applied makeup to a corpse. But, Mom let me do her makeup and Dad gave me permission to cut his hair. Mom came out of the experience looking like a floozy with rosy red cheeks, bright blue eye shadow, and neon lipstick. Dad wasn't as lucky. They must have been completely crazy to trust a pair of clippers in my 10 year old hands.

My dream of being a news reporter required less damage control. I tacked up a bed sheet and sat on a stool; a camera caught all of the ever so important weather predictions I had to offer. Depending on what mood I was in, this could have been tornadoes, earthquakes, or a clear summer day within minutes of one another. Eventually, I settled on simply winning the lottery; to this day I still hang on to that dream.

There were a lot of things during my childhood that I didn't understand until I was well into my adult years. Before the divorce, as far as I was concerned the sun rose and set in my Dad's eyes.It wasn't until he started showing his "crazy" that I realized how different our family was from others.

To be continued...