As kids, we often found ourselves wondering if our parents had a favorite. Who was Dad’s little buddy? Did Mom have a soft spot for one of us? It was easy to feel a twinge of jealousy toward our siblings, convinced they were the chosen ones. When we became parents ourselves, we promised we’d never play favorites. We told ourselves that each child would hold the title of “favorite” at some point. But here I am, confessing like a reformed Pinocchio: I absolutely have a favorite child.
The little one who wakes up smiling, dresses themselves without a fuss, and even lends a hand — that’s my favorite child. The one who snuggles in close and plants sweet kisses on my cheek? Yep, that’s my favorite child too. The one who’s crying over a broken toy or a hurt feeling is also my favorite child. And the one who cracks a joke or brings me to tears of joy? Yep, that’s my favorite child as well. The child who gazes at me with adoring eyes? You guessed it — my very favorite. Whosever birthday it is that day? You bet, they’re my favorite.
And let’s not forget the one who repeatedly yells my name like a broken record. That’s definitely my least favorite child. The one throwing a tantrum, crying, or hurling their toys? Yep, they’re my least favorite too. The inconsolable child, who seems to have lost all sense of reason? Well, they’re my least favorite as well.
The truth is, my favorites and least favorites shift daily, sometimes even hourly. I won’t apologize for not loving all three of my kids the same way at the same time. I can’t help how I feel, and honestly, I’m only human. On those rare days when everything falls into place — the stars align, and we’ve all gotten enough sleep — I find myself brimming with patience while they shine like little angels. But those blissful days are like rare gems hiding beneath a rock, covered in grass and shade.
Here’s the kicker: I love each of my kids deeply, and I’ve made peace with my fluctuating favorites. Even when I might be mentally flipping the bird to one of my unsuspecting darlings, I keep that to myself. My poker face is strong because I know my impatience won’t last forever. I cherish them all fiercely. During our spontaneous morning dance parties with my 2-year-old, building cities during naptime with my 4-year-old, or snuggling with my baby in the twilight hours, I find myself thinking, right now, you are my favorite.
I brought these little humans into the world partly to fill it with love, but let’s be real — I mostly did it for me. I wanted to experience a love like no other, to enjoy the fruits of hard work, and to hold a piece of divinity in my arms. So I don’t feel guilty when I whisper to each child why they’re my favorite. While I might feel a pang of selfishness for choosing the current “winner” based on my heart’s whims, it’s not about achievements or personalities.
I’m pretty sure my kids will feel special and sometimes not so special, and they’ll likely wonder who my true favorite is. It’s a cycle I know all too well.
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In summary, it’s natural for parents to have shifting favorites among their children. We love each child uniquely, and that’s perfectly okay. Embracing these feelings can lead to a more genuine and fulfilling parenting experience.