For many Middle Children, Halloween is an opportunity to not be a Middle Child -- at least for a day. But I say it's the perfect time to embrace your Middle Child-ness. Or at least a chance to be a different Middle Child -- maybe even a famous Middle Child! Here are some suggestions:
The Academy Awards are just days away. We present for your consideration, the Best of MidKid Remakes... (Follow on Twitter: @MidKidMusings On Facebook: SmackDabPage
The NEW Middle Child Valentine's Day Cards are here! Send one to a Middle Child you kind of care about, or if you are a Middle Child, send one to yourself!!
Facebook was launched 10 years ago today, giving Middle Children everywhere a whole new way to feel left out, ignored, and neglected by their friends...
Life really does look different through the distorted lens of a Middle Child!
This is NOT your father's Christmas classic -- unless he has Middle Child Syndrome!
Like most people, I’ve been growing more and more frustrated about Congress’ inability to seemingly get anything done. And that was before they shut down the government. Over the last few days, I’ve been trying to figure out some way they could work this all out, and that’s when it hit me. Politicians have to stop behaving like stubborn firstborns, spoiled lastborns, and selfish only children and take a page out of the Middle Child playbook...
Don't you just hate fighting those crowds at the store to get your Middle Child's Day greeting cards? Oh, that's right - there aren't any Middle Child's Day greeting cards. Well, now there are...
This is the poem that changed my life...
I have an old trunk that I keep in my study. It’s the trunk I used every summer when I went to sleep away camp. Just looking at the outside brings back all kinds of memories . Inside, it’s filled with all kinds of things from my childhood. Old photos. Ticket stubs to concerts. MAD magazines. I don’t throw much away, so pretty much anything related to my youth can be found inside that trunk. I thought I had recalled every memory that old trunk held, but one day I came across the most incredible thing. I found the reason why I am the way I am today. There it was, next to my hospital birth wristband and a plastic bag with a clipping of hair from my first haircut. It was not a written report from the elementary school psychologist. It was not a vile of my DNA. I found my birth announcement:
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