Three Favorites

I love all three of my children equally, although I love each of them for different reasons. I do not believe in favorites, although every time I say that out loud; other parents tell me I am not being honest because every parent of multiple children has a favorite and just doesn’t want to admit it. This bothers me.

From my perspective, honesty is admitting that there are phases when it is easier to connect with one child over another. There may be times I have to work harder to make a connection or have a conversation that is meaningful. There may be a phase where one of my children has an annoying habit that grates my nerves more frequently; say like licking anything and everything (including me), constantly interrupting anytime I try to speak with someone my own age or shrieking with such a high pitch, it could break glass just because it gets a reaction.

These moments of time have happened and will certainly continue to occur which can pose a roadblock in trying to bond or feel close to any one of my three kids. But the thing that grates me about the favorite theory is that it is a scapegoat. The path of least resistance is to spend more time with the easier child because it’s just that. Easier.

Perhaps there is one child that is more similar to you and so bonding with that child happens effortlessly because you see a reflection of yourself in that child. Maybe one of your children arrived at a time when you needed that child and there is a bond due to the circumstance at birth. Regardless, there is usually a reason a parent who openly acknowledges a favorite has selected one child that falls into this category.

Here’s the thing, though. It is our job as parents to bring out the best in each of our children. It is up to us to yield the extra effort when we acknowledge a void and it is when we uncover their layers and find how complex and interesting our children are when the relationship with them truly flourishes. It takes energy and effort. In my opinion, the honest thing to admit is that every time I have one-on-one time with any of my children, I make them feel like they are my favorite. Brody, my ten month old, probably isn’t grasping this concept quite yet, but my older girls certainly are.

I celebrate the one on one time because it doesn’t happen as much as I would like it to while trying to juggle three children under the age of four-and-a-half. So I try to go all out when the moments arrive. I look at each of them directly in the eyes when I have them alone and tell them how happy they make me and that I am so glad that it’s just us right now. I tell them that they are my favorite part of the day. I dole out extra kisses, hugs, butterfly eyelash kisses, Eskimo kisses; whatever is required at that particular moment to make them feel like they are my everything and my one and only for that moment in time.

Now, I don’t relay these examples for a pat on the back that I am doing a stellar job at parenting. Quite the contrary, as there are days I know I fail miserably. Times I miss one on one opportunities because I am tired and need to unload the dishwasher and wash the veggies for dinnertime, all while bouncing a teething baby on my hip. But every child is extraordinary and needs to be made special. Parenting is hard because it’s our job to make them feel that way, as well as balancing the teaching, coaching, mentoring, cleaning, driving, planning, organizing, and scheduling. The list goes on.

However, it is still our job to connect with our children, not their job to connect with us. And so at the end of each of my days, I tell all my children the same thing. Elsie, you are my favorite. Callie, you are my favorite. Brody, you are my favorite. And you each will be the best part of my day at some point every day.

Tracy Balderach is a mother of three, ages 10 months, 3, and 4. When she isn’t chasing her children down the sidewalks of NYC, she’s blogging about them at Our Blessed Beautiful Big City Life. She still finds time to date her husband of 7.5 years, keep up with her best friends across the country, and appreciate a glass of red wine at the end of a long day.