My 'Middle' Child

I'm not sure how the whole birth-order personality thing shakes out in your house, but in ours, Addie has always been the textbook example of the first born. Reliable. Conscientious. High-achieving. And constantly seeking the approval of authority figures. I guess that would be us.

She was quick to tears if she ever felt she did anything "wrong" or didn't get things right the first time. Take long division, for example. Oh the tears that were shed at our kitchen table as we worked and re-worked the step-by-step process necessary to get the right answer. This was just days before diagnosis. I could sense her frustration and tried my best to reassure her that it would be OK. This involved sharing a few stories of my own mathematically-challenged self and explaining that mastering long division was just going to take practice, repetition, and time.

Time.

I didn't intend for this post to be about time running out on long division and life. This is a post about birth order, so let's stick with that.

Like I said, the oldest child description fit Addie to a T.

Addie and Tripp at the pool.

So where does that leave Isaac?

He's supposed to be the rebellious, polar opposite of his older sister. In some ways, he is, but he's also kind and considerate (most of the time). And I don't think it's fair for anyone to expect the middle child to all of a sudden take on the personality traits of the oldest child just because the oldest child has died.

And yet, there are times when I do a double-take at the things I've seen in Isaac since Addie's death. There are times when I hear a voice, gentle and sweet, explaining why we don't need to scream when we aren't the person picked to put the spoons on the table. I'll turn around expecting to see Addie and see a 5-year-old boy instead. That is not to say that there aren't times when Isaac is the one doing the screaming, but the years he spent living with and listening to his older sister have made him who he is. And that's someone who can sweetly explain to his little brother why things are the way they are one minute and remind him that he's a weenie the next.

And that's OK.

Partners in crime-fighting?

Loving brother.