If middle borns were to disappear, though, would anyone care? After all, the term middle-child syndrome was coined to encapsulate the black-sheep status of the middle child and her struggle to belong, a stereotype that popular culture has embedded firmly in the collective consciousness. Contributing to the reproductive go-slow are rocketing house prices and education fees – not to mention the parlous state of the planet. Why? Millennials are waiting longer to get married and, consequently, starting their families later. Families with one or two children are the new norm. (Incidentally, the term “middle born” describes any child born after the first and before the last in a family, regardless of sibship size the middle of three is called a “classic middle”.)Īccording to the Australian Institute of Family Studies, the fertility rate of Australian women – how many children they bear in their life – hit an all-time low of 1.74 in 2017, from its 1961 peak of 3.55. Middle borns, like the snow leopard, the black-flanked rock wallaby and the Gouldian finch, are an endangered species.

But maybe it’s another case of too little, too late for this beleaguered demographic?Īccording to studies, the rise of the “micro family” throughout the developed world heralds the demise of mankind’s most populous birth order. It’s Hopman’s contention that middle-born offspring, who can spend their formative years languishing palely in the shadows of exalted, high-achieving first borns and mollycoddled, plough-their-own-furrow lasts, deserve attention of their own. It advocates, among other things, for the switching of official Middle Child Day from August 12 to July 2, the middle day of the year. “Moving forward, the stage was pretty much set,” deadpans the creator of Smack Dab: A Middle Child’s Blo g – a dedication to overlooked middle children everywhere – and founder of the mock-serious International Middle Child Union. He didn’t even get top billing in his own birth announcement, he laments, his mum and dad choosing to describe his arrival as a genetic adjunct to their firstborn – “a brother for Michael David” – rather than a person in his own right. “Years later, I realised there was no seat belt for the middle of the front seat.

Why else would I be sitting in the front seat?’ ” he says. “At the time, I thought, ‘Oh my god, maybe I am my parents’ favourite child. But he derived comfort from a single event: during his family’s annual road trip from New Jersey to Florida, they’d invite him to sit up front between them, leaving his big brother and little sister on the back seat squished between their elderly grandparents. Normal text size Larger text size Very large text sizeĪs a classic middle child – the second of three – Bruce Hopman grew up with the knowledge he occupied an uncertain position in his parents’ affections.

Middle child