I have three children, each two years apart. My eldest, now 11, has recently developed a voracious appetite, stomping around the house and sleeping in until noon. My middle child, who is 9, has a passion for amphibians, Star Wars, and an unusual obsession with sugar cookies (seriously, he can’t get enough of those sprinkle-covered treats). Then there’s my youngest, who is 7. He adores Star Wars, Amphibia, and Gravity Falls. He loves to dig holes in the backyard and build elaborate imaginary worlds with his LEGOs. Sometimes, he can swing for an entire hour. I definitely spoil him.
He thrives on it.
When he wakes up, I greet him with, “Good morning, my little sunshine,” and wrap him in a warm hug. More often than not, he curls up on the couch and dozes off again. I ensure he has plenty of blankets and a comfy pillow. I say good morning to my other two boys, of course, but they usually gravitate towards our dog instead. Sunny, however, is the one who hugs me. They prefer the rambunctious black dog named Daisy.
It’s just too easy.
He is, after all, the baby.
The Decision Not to Have Another Baby
When Sunny was just four days old, I held him in bed and cried, “Please tell me he’s not the last one,” I pleaded with my partner. We had always envisioned a larger family, and the thought of him being our last child was unbearable. “He won’t be our only child,” my partner reassured me. “I promise.”
However, my pregnancy with Sunny was anything but smooth. I suffered from severe hyperemesis that landed me in the hospital for dehydration. When we finally found a medication that allowed me to keep food down, I could only manage junk food — anything else would come back up. I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes at just twelve weeks, complicating my food intake even further. Ultimately, I was sleeping around sixteen hours a day due to medication side effects while also pricking my finger multiple times a day and administering a hefty amount of insulin. Despite my extreme nausea, I gained considerable weight due to the diabetes.
It was truly awful. We wouldn’t have been able to handle it if my partner hadn’t been teaching at a local university, keeping him around most of the time. During his classes, I parented from our couch, and my kids received minimal attention from me.
Now that my partner teaches high school, he wouldn’t be home to help if I were pregnant again. With our kids being homeschooled, I take on the role of teacher, a responsibility I couldn’t manage if I were as exhausted as I was during my pregnancy with Sunny. We worried that my gestational diabetes could pose even greater risks, and with each pregnancy, my hyperemesis symptoms had worsened. How would I cope with a fourth child? Would I end up in the hospital again? With Sunny, I had also needed iron infusions. A new pregnancy would mean leaving three kids with a babysitter for three mornings a week, disrupting their schooling and draining my already limited energy.
Ultimately, we decided against having more children. I cried, and even now, I still mourn that decision as my sons grow older and we leave the baby stage behind. But Sunny remains our youngest.
It Doesn’t Help That He’s My Sweetest Child
“Oh, isn’t he well-mannered!” my mother-in-law remarked about Sunny this summer. He never forgets to say “please” and “thank you.” While my other kids do so as well, they aren’t as consistent — nor do they do it with such big, bright eyes. When he’s told he’s made a mistake, he cries real, heartfelt tears. He doesn’t throw tantrums. And when someone apologizes, he looks them in the eye and sincerely says, “I forgive you.” Without fail.
My eldest son is moody and stomps around; while he sometimes seeks cuddles, he is starting to find us annoying. My middle child struggles with severe ADHD; when we tell him not to do something, he often does it anyway. They both shy away from hugs when upset — I offer them every single time.
When Sunny is sad, he curls up in my lap.
It’s nearly impossible not to spoil a child who seeks comfort from you, who hugs you before the dog, and who sneaks under the covers to cuddle while his brothers wrestle with their dad. Try not to melt. Just try.
I Love All My Kids Equally… Sunny’s Just Easier to Spoil
I’ve spent over a decade with a reliable cuddle buddy. Whenever I ask, someone has always been there to snuggle with me. Soon, cuddling with Mom won’t be “cool” anymore. He already gets upset when I choose his clothes, and I used to love dressing my boys in cute outfits. So, I feel the need to soak up as much cuddle time as I can. Eventually, there won’t be anyone left to spoil. Sunny, in essence, is an easy target for my affection.
His brothers know I care for each of them — just not in the same way — and they understand there are no favorites. I enjoy taking my eldest to fencing and chatting with him, and I love reading with my 9-year-old and listening to his interests. They all receive cuddles whenever they ask. In fact, I often offer more than they accept. 7-year-old Sunny, however, constantly seeks out cuddles.
I don’t engage with him more than I do with his siblings. I don’t discipline him any less. But when I do discipline him, he apologizes. My eldest storms off, and my middle child glares at me. Sunny. Is. Just. Easier. And that makes him even more susceptible to being spoiled.
Soon, I won’t have any little ones at home. All my kids will be towering teenagers, guzzling milk and sleeping late, and glaring at me regularly. I need to cherish the precious childhood moments I have left, knowing how quickly they slip away. Ultimately, Sunny is babied simply because he is the youngest. No other reason. I’d spoil them all if they’d tolerate it.
He’s my favorite cuddle buddy. Some may read this and assume he’s my favorite child, but that’s not the case. Yet, he is the squishiest and, for now, the sweetest. He sings in the car, and sometimes I sit in the passenger seat, listening to his adorable rendition of R.E.M. in his little voice, and I tear up. This phase won’t last forever. As the Counting Crows say in “Long December,” “I can’t remember all the times I tell myself / To hold on to these moments as they pass.”
He’s the last one I have to hold close.
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Summary:
In this heartfelt reflection, Maria Thompson shares her experiences as a mother of three, focusing on her youngest son, Sunny, who is 7 years old. Despite her desire for a larger family, health complications during her last pregnancy led her to decide against having more children. Sunny’s sweet demeanor and affectionate nature make him particularly easy to spoil, and Maria cherishes their cuddling moments, knowing they won’t last forever. She emphasizes that while she loves all her children equally, Sunny’s behavior makes him more prone to receiving extra affection.