the wiener mom and her middle wiener

It has come to my attention that it is a sad state indeed to be a middle wiener. Not being a middle one or a wiener, this has escaped my attention until recent talks with Daddy wiener. Middle wiener watched Big wiener turn 6, have a party at Chuck E. Cheese, lose his first tooth and receive subsequent surprise money from a curious winged creature in the night. He traipses along as we take Big wiener to play dates, art classes, and swimming lessons.

All in all I'd have to say that life sucks right now for the middle wiener. What's happening in his life? Grown-ups are forcing him to empty his bowels on a potty! That and all of the above. Oh and on top of that, he is now sharing me with Little wiener and Big wiener all day long.

Though I hadn't noticed the fact that his life sucked until very recently, I did notice the effects of the suckiness on him. I was pulling my hair out (just the white ones) because his behavior in the last month has been so bad. He doesn't listen. He shrieks all the time. He fights with Big wiener. He shrieks all the time. He won't use words to tell us what he wants, just (you guessed it) shrieks. Daddy wiener and I have been fighting each other to see who gets to run away.

Then I have this epiphany. I start thinking about all the things listed above, all the reasons that Middle wiener might be feeling a little left out. This could be enough to piss the little rogue off. He's an intense wiener anyway, so this last month has just pushed him over the edge. I feel badly that it took me a month to realize that this might be the problem and the impetus for all the shrieking, but in my defense it's hard to think above the SHRIEKING.

On the airplane coming home from Fabulous Fargo, after being delayed for three hours, Middle wiener is sitting next to me with his too big head drooping and bouncing around as he fights sleep. I tried several times to reposition him with his head on my lap, but he wasn't interested and in fact produced several shrieking type noises, though quiet. I wanted so badly to hold him, but he didn't want to be held. It was really much more for me than for him, I just wanted to show some penance for not noticing his inner turmoil sooner. Sitting there, watching him droop and bounce and look altogether highly uncomfortable, my heart was breaking for him.

At one time he had been my baby, he was the Little wiener. He seems so stuck and so frustrated. He's bigger, but not big enough. He's little but not really very little. I just wanted to take him in my arms and hug him, kiss him, whisper to him that he would always be my special boy. I felt so sad that he might be sad, or frustrated in the very least. There are so many things that he wants to do and express that he just can't yet. I finally did get so tired of the drooping and bobbing head that I just scooped him up and put him on my lap, a place he's not spent much time lately. I kissed that blond head and breathed in that Middle wiener smell. I miss my happy little Middle wiener. I decided right then with him sleeping on my lap, flying through a thunderstorm towards home, that I needed to do a better job. I can't let him get looked over. I can't let his day pass with nothing special. I need to make sure that every day he knows I love him and he's special. I'm his only wiener mom and more importantly (and more selfishly) he's my only Middle wiener and I love him to pieces.

Update: Since I made that decision and we've been home three days, I have made an extra effort every day to do something special with him. We're taking a parent/preschooler art class together on Saturday mornings for the summer. I told him and he was so confused, he coudn't believe that Big wiener wasn't coming. My sweet precious Middle wiener. Oh, the shrieking has been drastically reduced! Who knows if my love and kindness had anything to do with it, or he was just hurting his own ears...