Always stuck between others, desperately wanting to shine. 

Between a child with more knowledge and ability, and a younger, cuter version.

I watch my princess with compassion, knowing the burden she bears.
Not the baby, not the first, she feels invisible at times, searching for the love and attention she so craves

I remember that feeling. 

Knowing that, if they could only see me, they’d know how amazing I was. They would want to be there for me, and give me all the hugs and accolades my middle child heart craved.

As I grew, the feeling became more muted, but never disappeared. 

It showed itself in the sinking of my heart when passed over, the question I had inside when someone else did the exact same thing to resounding applause, where moments earlier I’d gone unnoticed.

So we do little things together. I watch her brush her teeth with her Elsa toothbrush, and I listen to her sing me a random song that I don’t quite understand.

I give her hugs when she’s being particularly whiny or tearful, knowing the sensitive heart that beats within, 

relating, commiserating 

I love my middle child.

I hope I can help her traverse that muddy stream, so that someday, she is proud of who she is. 

Confident in her worth, 

and the love of her parents.