A Daddy blogger out of Canada came under fire last month for posting that he had a favorite of his two young sons. I’m not sure how I feel about his statement but it got me thinking the unthinkable – what if I have a favorite son and I Just. Can. Not. Admit. It.
My oldest sister insists that both my older sister and I are our parent’s favorites. Like the day I publicly thanked my mother on Facebook for the surprise dinner delivery (a habit she is prone to do for all three of her daughters, by the way) – she good-naturedly chimed in her usual “Well, we know who their favorite is don’t we?” My mother and I have laughed about it too – and she admits there are things about each of her children that she adores – and a few things that aren’t her favorite, too.
So, I will go ahead and say it.
I have a favorite son. (If you are wondering which one, I will give you a hint – his first name begins with the letter “N!”)
Seriously – my favorite child – well that may vary considerably throughout the day and depending on the situation. When we are snuggling in our pajamas watching Saturday morning cartoons, my Nathan is my favorite snuggler. Minutes later, when my Noah comes in to my room, carrying a drawing he has made just for me (usually accompanied with some tear-inducing sentiment), he is my favorite poet. When Nate comes toddling over to me and for no reason at all, wraps his arms around my neck and kisses me, he is my favorite sweetheart. And when Noah accompanies me to a Weight Watchers meeting and asks why on earth I need to do anything to improve my body because I am, as he says “perfect just the way you are,” he is my favorite cheerleader.
Their dad and I constantly shake our heads at how different our two boys are – and for that I am grateful. As much as I enjoy the sweet brotherly displays of affection and play that take place between my boys on a regular basis, I love how two children with the same set of parents, can bring so many different qualities to our family. Noah, whose looks favor his daddy, is more like his momma in personality. Sensitive to a fault, he hates to fail, hates to not be the best at something – and wears his budding romantic heart on his sleeve. He loves to be the center of attention and makes friends almost instantly wherever he goes. Nathan on the other hand, favors my side of the family, yet is a more laidback version of his father. He is cautious and reserved – and makes you work for his affections. While perfectly social with other children he is familiar with, he is also known to be just as happy to play on his own with a favorite truck or coloring book. He loves to snuggle while his brother, 29 months his senior, still can’t sit still long enough to snuggle through a good movie. Together, they are the perfect combination of my favorite child – and I wouldn’t change a hair on either one of their tousled little boy heads. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t days when, quite frankly, neither of them is particularly my favorite – but even on the days when they are at their orneriest, I am always quite smitten with those sons of mine.
So, when my sisters and I chide each other about which one of us is Mom’s favorite, I can rest easy knowing that I probably am my mother’s favorite some of the time. We are both sensitive souls who can be brought to tears in a millisecond – and thanks to my mother’s example, we are both women of faith who would rather lose a fight than engage in any type of confrontation. I know there are plenty of things that bond my sisters with my mom in special ways, too – and for that I am grateful. Recognizing what bonds you to your children and celebrating those bonds, makes that bond even stronger.
Sure, I have a favorite child. He is the one who calls me Mommy.