As children, we often pondered whether our parents had a favorite among us. We speculated about who might hold that special title in our mother’s heart or our father’s circle. Those feelings of resentment towards siblings could easily bubble up when we felt overlooked. Fast forward to adulthood, and many of us promised ourselves we wouldn’t play favorites. We intended for each of our kids to feel equally cherished. Yet, here I am, candid as a newly reformed character, admitting: I have a favorite child.
The child who greets the day with joy, dresses without a fuss, and lends a hand when needed? That’s my favorite. The one who snuggles up and showers me with sweet kisses? Definitely my favorite. The one whose heart breaks over a lost toy or a shattered dream? Yes, my favorite too. And the child who makes me laugh or brings tears of joy to my eyes? They are my favorite as well. The one who gazes at me with adoration? Absolutely my favorite.
On their birthday, they automatically earn the title of my favorite child. However, the one who calls my name on repeat can easily become my least favorite. The one throwing a tantrum or exhibiting difficult behavior? That’s also my least favorite for the moment. These roles can shift rapidly, sometimes even within the same hour. I refuse to apologize for the fact that my affection for my three children varies from moment to moment. I can’t change how I feel or ignore my emotions — I am who I am.
When the stars align perfectly, and we’ve all had enough sleep, I find the patience to enjoy those rare, blissful days. But those moments are like hidden gems, buried beneath layers of daily challenges and chaos. Here’s the truth: I love each of my children deeply, and I’ve made peace with my moments of indecision. While I might occasionally feel a twinge of guilt for favoring one over another, I remind myself that my love is not based on their achievements or personalities.
I can see the joy in my children’s faces when I engage with them, whether it’s spinning my toddler during spontaneous dance parties, building imaginative cities with my four-year-old during quiet hours, or snuggling my baby during those serene twilight moments. Each time I look into their bright eyes, I think, “Right now, you are my favorite.”
Ultimately, I brought these little humans into the world not just to enhance our lives but mostly to experience a love unlike any other, to cherish the rewards of nurturing, and to hold a piece of divinity in my arms. So, I don’t feel remorse for having favorites among them. I know they will experience moments of feeling special and times when they don’t, and they might even wonder who holds the title of favorite at any given time. It’s a familiar cycle to me.
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In summary, navigating parenthood often means embracing the reality of having favorite children at different times. It’s a complex journey filled with love, challenges, and moments of pure joy.