Of Playing Favorites

There were many times in my past when I could not understand the concept of a parent not having a favorite child.  I know people.  And I know people I like better than other people.  It's natural.  I've been a teacher in multiple settings.  I have had students I favored over others.  I can't help it (and, no, I won't tell you if you were one of them); it's natural.

Thus, I feared, while pregnant with my second child, that I would fall prey to a smidge of favoritism.  And while I almost hate to admit it, I certainly would have guessed Micaiah would have a leg up on the competition.  While I was looking forward to meeting the little one in my womb, I knew Miss Micaiah was a tough act to follow and, let's face it, she had nearly two years on the kid - 21 months, really, to burrow her little self into our hearts.  And she'd done a great job.  She's an amazing little girl!

I was worried.

And then I met Emmett.  And my heart melted before me. 

I had absolutely no idea that after pouring out so much love for my first child I would be able to muster up the exact same amount for my second.  He is precious and a little heart-breaker already.

There are still days when a do a quick self-check.  I'm not picking a favorite am I?

And then I ponder. 

Micaiah has her rough days.  The days when a swat seems to mean nothing and there's just nothing Mommy can do to cause this little rebel to follow orders.  Days when I want to pull out my own hair.  When calling to mind those days I might think I maybe prefer the little man who does little more than sleep, grin and giggle - always gazing with complete trust and admiration.  He is pretty stiff competition for the little firecracker. 

And then Micaiah has days, or even just moments in the rough days, where she comes to me from nowhere, head pointed up, lips puckered, waiting for a kiss, or she'll crawl up next to me on the couch and lay her sweet head on my shoulder.  And when she randomly runs up and hugs my leg?  Be still my heart.  Compare that to nights when Emmett keeps me awake from 3:30am to 5am.  Mornings, really, when I feel I need sleep more than anything.  At least his sister knows her momma needs her rest.

I could list "pros" or "cons" all day (ok, mostly "pros" all day - my children are pretty close to perfection when it comes to pleasing my heart), but the facts wouldn't change.  There is no winner.  Only a parent of more than one child could understand the entire equality of my affection for both of my children.

They have their ups, they have their downs, but above all they have my love.  Utterly and completely.