I'd always been insecure. Being the fourth of five kids means attention is divided five ways, and to do this equally is impossible. I grew up feeling like the little orphan in the family, the one who didn't fit in.
I am positive I was not a neglected child. I remember reading 'The Jungle Book' and 'The Sleeping Beauty.'
From my second son Gustav, I bought one of his complaints for 200 kroner. He was complaining that he was a middle child - he wasn't the beloved first child, and he wasn't the cute little youngest child. So I said, can I use that same wording in a film? And he said yeah. So I bought it from him.
Being the 8th out of 10 kids, and being the one that stayed in trouble, I sort of became a momma's boy.
I was more like a middle child. My youngest brother was the baby, so he got all the attention that the baby gets. And my older brothers were getting into so much trouble that I was left in the middle, doing plays. I was up to no good, but my mother didn't know it!
I'm kind of a double middle child.
By not paying attention to your body, you are putting it in the same predicament as a neglected child. How can a child be expected to develop normally if the parents pay no attention, if they ignore its cries for help, and remain indifferent to whether their child is happy or unhappy?
Everyone always says the middle child is the worst or whatever - what do they say? That everyone forgets about them? But that's not true. That's not true in my family.
I was just the youngest in the family, and most in desperate need of attention.
I used to be a dusty little child.
I had been found in a mud puddle at 4:30 in the morning.
A lot of people say the middle child is the most adventurous. That's me!
That child whose mother has never smiled upon him is worthy neither of the table of the gods nor the couch of the goddesses.
The poor child was the drudge of the household, and was always in the wrong. He was, however, the most bright and discreet of all the brothers; and if he spoke little, he heard and thought the more.
A soiled baby with a neglected nose cannot be conscientiously regarded as a thing of beauty.
No mommy's kisses and no daddy's smile. Nobody wants me, I'm nobody's child.
I was a foggy, erratic teenager: a fifth child, the last in the queue for conversation or attention.
