Middle child

Poor Emilie, I think I don't blog about her enough. She is an easy kid, so dependable, and such a joiner. We have given up trying to keep up with her activities. She has to tell us where and when she needs to be all the millions of places she goes.

She doesn't have a shy bone in her body--at least not that we can find. Saturday night, she and three of her (girl) friends attended the church youth group's annual Thrift Store Prom. The four of them went to Goodwill ahead of time and purchased two suits and two evening gowns. They were each other's dates. Resourceful little chickadees.

She earns a ton of money babysitting, and is in great demand because she actually plays with the kids and does the dishes (like we were expected to do when we were babysitters years ago). She frequently offers to pay for extra items she needs for band or winterguard or school out of her earnings. Sometimes we let her--I think it makes her proud, and she's learning the value of budgeting her money.

Today, however, I got a little worried she might be experiencing middle child syndrome. The mail came, and we had a packet hand addressed to her from the Thomas Jefferson School in St. Louis. A private boarding school.

Should I be concerned? Hmm?