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Oh, the life of the middles.
Not small enough to easily crawl into Momma’s lap, to sit and ponder the amazing contents of the pots and pans cabinet while she cooks, or to think Paw Patrol is the best thing ever.
But not big enough to walk the dog alone, or manage the hot glue gun without supervision, or stay up and watch the PG-13 movie with “the big people.”
It’s a frustrating place to linger, this no-man’s land of growing up. For everyone.
Parents struggle to find the right balance of responsibilities and privileges, older siblings can’t quite see the new wings sprouting as the brother or sister outgrows “baby things.” And the child who floats in between? Frustration, boredom, and (often) a desire to nab any attention at all … even the negative variety.
Even though we’ve walked this path a few times now, I still find myself caught off guard when a little one grabs the next rung of the ladder and pulls himself up to Bigger. One day, my sweet babe is happy to hang out in the early chapter book stacks of the library, the very next he or she is peering around the corner, wondering what’s hidden among the titles marked “teen.” How did I miss this? I ask myself. Where was I when he outgrew Mercy Watson and Owly and was ready for The Trumpet of the Swan and The Castle in the Attic? Where was I when it was suddenly time for Redwall? And now we’re looking at A Wrinkle in Time and A Long Walk to Water? Whaaaaaaat?
The fact is, I was right there. And yes, the transition always seems to happen overnight. Keeping up with the shift is like trying to grab water, no matter how many children you have, no matter how many ages you parent.
But when I find them there, drifting in the center of that awkward non-space, I have to remember to be purposeful, to reach out and reach in and pull the child close. To remind him or her that the new phase of growing into your oversized feet is an uncomfortable one, yes, but a short one, too.
Soon enough, these middles will be holding their own, growing their own wings, and rocketing out into the world at large. They’ll finally (finally!) have the privilege of staying up late to screen Cary Grant flicks, or riding their bike far around the bend, past where Momma can see. It will come sooner than I realize, but just in time for a little person straining for more.