Birth Order, Part 2, and a Note About Memorial Day

As we promised last week, here’s the next installment in our observations about birth order and its impact on life and marriage.

And this week’s post was fun to write because we are both quintessential “middle-born” children. (Well, Teri was smack in the middle of five kids and, while Paul was the younger of two, his functional role in the family was that of the prototypical middle child.)

Middle-born children are the “lost” children. They have neither the privileges of the first-born nor the adoration reserved for the baby, so they tend to have more difficulty identifying their role in the family. When Mom encounters an acquaintance at the mall, the introductions may sound like: “This is Michael, our eldest — isn’t he a strapping young man? And this is our youngest, little Chloe — have you ever seen a cuter baby? And this is, um…Jake. Say, have you checked the sale at Macy’s…?” Middle-born children are the recipients of all the hand-me-down clothing and toys (and later on perhaps an older sibling’s hand-me-down car as well). Statistically, they are the least likely of all the siblings to finish college.

They can grow up feeling unimportant in the family matrix. The eldest-born (especially if a female) is often in an alliance with Mom to help parent the brood, and will hold more sway over the baby than she will over a middle sibling. So Mom, the eldest and the baby have clearly defined relationships, whereas the middle-born is less sure of her status. However, the good news for the middle-born is that shifting alliances uniquely position her to play various roles within the family structure. Sometimes, for example, she can talk her way into some “lady dress up” activities with an older sister, while on other occasions she may decide to horse around with a younger brother.

Later in life her experience at role-shifting may enable her to identify with a range of personality types. Middle-children often excel at careers that involve diplomacy and negotiating. They are often the peacemakers in their family of origin and tend to continue that role long after the sibling group has entered adulthood. If married to another middle child, the two will probably create a literal peaceable kingdom, one that may in fact be too calm: Avoiding conflict at all cost may cause two peacemakers to sidestep ongoing issues that need to be addressed and resolved.

The middle-born can be undemanding — sometimes to his own detriment, in that he may not be able to contend for his own feelings and opinions. If married to someone with a more dominant personality, a middle-born’s desire for “peace at any price” may unwittingly enable the spouse to persist in unhealthy, and unchallenged, controlling behavior.

Only children are an interesting blend of the characteristics typically found in eldest and youngest-born. They are overachievers and pampered. They can become perfectionists and yet remain childlike. They are the object of all parental focus, with no subsequent siblings to claim a share of Mom and Dad’s attention. With fewer opportunities to interact with other children, only children tend to be less playful with peers and more comfortable in adult company (i.e., they can act like “miniature adults”). Because negotiation skills are learned from years of having to bargain with siblings — You two work it out or neither one of you is going to play with that toy! – the only child may be short on important give-and-take skills that are needed to make appropriate compromises and live harmoniously with another human being. Making an apology may seem like pulling teeth if they haven’t been forced to say “I’m sorry” a thousand times to siblings. Like youngest born children, they haven’t been required to help in the care of little brothers and sisters, and often are uncomfortable assuming the role of parent. They may be determined to have a large family, but will probably be unprepared to manage the nuts and bolts of rearing several kids. They may have a more difficult time breaking away from their parents, feeling the full brunt of responsibility for their welfare.

So why does any of this matter? Because whatever “roles” we played in the dynamic of our original family make a big contribution to the way we relate to others in adulthood. If you were a typical first-born, you probably went into marriage assuming you would be the one in charge. If you were a youngest-born, you may have entered marriage assuming you would be cared for. If you were an only-born, you may have struggled with resolving conflict with your spouse. And if you were middle-born like us, you may shy away from conflict. We have often joked that wish we had allowed ourselves to have more disagreements earlier in our marriage. But both of us valued a peaceful marital landscape so much that we avoided uncomfortable issues that might lead to disharmony in the home.

How about you? How have the roles you played in your original family affected your marriage? We’d love to hear from you!

A Postscript for Memorial Day (by Paul)

When I was growing up I welcomed Memorial Day as a day off of school that also heralded three glorious months of summer vacation just around the corner. As an adult, for many years Memorial Day provided a 3-day weekend to rehab the yard, where we live during the summer. It also signaled the kickoff of the summer blockbuster movie season.

Over the last decade I’ve focused a lot more on the actual intent of the day: to remember those who paved the way, who sacrificed and died so that I might grow up and raise a family in a free and stable society. (“Saving Private Ryan” made a huge impact on this aspect of my observance of Memorial Day.) But I have also spent more time recently to pause and honor loved ones and friends who have passed on. Both of my parents died since 2000, as did Teri’s mom. A favorite uncle passed away a little over a year ago. Our wonderful friends, Joe and Karen Johnson, lost their son Joey in 2008, just before Memorial Day.

Last weekend Teri and I heard the best choir concert of all time (for me, anyway), given by the Los Angeles Master Chorale. The theme was “Americana,” and it featured early American hymns, folk songs and spirituals, performed with breathtaking finesse. Many of the earliest American hymns dealt squarely with losses that were all too common when life expectancy was short, and thus they focused on hopes for a “heavenly home.” A trio of songs with this theme was presented early in the concert, in extraordinary arrangements by a tenor in the choir named Shawn Kirchner. As I listened, and thought about how much my mom and dad would have enjoyed what we were hearing, I just about came unglued with emotion. One song in particular, “Angel Band,” was achingly beautiful, and in honor of Memorial Day I leave its lyrics with you:

Angel Band

Jefferson Hascall, published 1860

My latest sun is sinking fast,
My race is nearly run;
My strongest trials now are past,
My triumph is begun.

Refrain:
Oh, come, angel band,
Come and around me stand;
Oh, bear me away on your snowy wings
To my eternal home;
Oh, bear me away on your snowy wings
To my eternal home.

I know I’m near the holy ranks
Of friends and kindred dear—
I hear the waves on Jordan’s banks,
The crossing must be near.

I’ve almost reached my heav’nly home,
My spirit loudly sings;
Thy holy ones, behold, they come!
I hear the noise of wings.

Oh, bear my longing heart to Him,
Who bled and died for me;
Whose blood now cleanses from all sin,
And gives me victory.

Oh, come, angel band,
Come and around me stand;
Oh, bear me away on your snowy wings
To my eternal home;
Oh, bear me away on your snowy wings
To my eternal home.

©Paul and Teri Reisser, 2010.

Paul Reisser is a family physician who has been in private practice for more than three decades. He has served as the primary author of Focus on the Family’s Complete Guide to Baby and Child Care and Complete Guide to Family Health, Nutrition and Fitness. Teri Reisser is a marriage and family therapist and author of A Solitary Sorrow, which deals with the emotional fallout of abortion. Together Paul and Teri have recently written Your Spouse Isn’t the Person You Married.