My mother was a middle child, in every sense of the word. My father, the baby. And I am the quintessential middle child, oldest daughter, only child. (what's that you say??). Let me explain. I have an older brother, John, who is seven years older than me thus making each of us "only children." We, by nature, are competitive bullies, prone to depression. My younger sister, Kathy, is six years younger than me making me somewhat of a middle child. A peacemaker, even-tempered, responsible person, naturally prone to anxiety and depression, insecurity and loneliness. Now here comes my younger brother, Scott, the baby. Who is nine years younger than me, thus making my sister a "middle child" of sorts. Oh, and just to add to the mix I am also mildly agoraphobic and quite the perfectionist. Good Lord it's no wonder I'm such a mess! All of these middle/older/only child tendencies really come to full force as the holidays draw near and we all make plans to spend time together. You would think by now, as adults, we could weave our way through this maze and have some sort of peaceful holiday moments, but ya know, I have to be in charge and keep everyone in their place, it's my born responsibility!
P.S. o.k. wait, wait just a minute. I may have figured out a simplier explanation.........i'm a redhead. Yeah that's it. I'm pretty sure that's it.