I have been struggling to write this blog for about 2 weeks. With moving and school starting… I haven’t really wanted to sit down and focus.
I’ve been living with this feeling that I actually have a favorite child. It made me laugh at first. Then I was sad. Then I felt super Mom Guilt. So let’s dive in…..
The Trio is super into talking about their lives now that NJ is here. Everyone wants to know about their milestones and cute little stories. Gulp!
Out and about someone asked if NJ was teething.
I answered “No he actually JUST figured out how to suck his thumb”
The next question was “Did your other kids suck their thumbs”
Que awkward silence
I had a Bad Mom moment.
I REALLY DON’T REMEMBER.
Flashback to 2007 … newborn, new marriage, 21 years old. I probably snuggled the kid too much and took lots of nostril pictures. Sorry not sorry.
Flashback to Fall of 2009 … I had an extremely active 2-year-old and an infant. Lots of resentment and anger and sadness.
Flashback to 2011 … I had a misunderstood 4-year-old, a sensitive 18 month old, and a newborn. New state far away from family, one kid starting school and being diagnosed with a learning disorder, and no sleep.
If it weren’t for the Internet I wouldn’t remember a thing. I couldn’t tell you when CJ rolled over. I couldn’t tell you how much Dylan slept as a baby. I honestly don’t recall much of Adele’s first year other than she was covered in tulle and ribbon.
I came to the realization that NJ is the first baby I can actually experience.
It made me feel awful. Like I was picking favorites.
Because let’s be real, every Parent has a favorite. In their own ways all of my kids are my favorite. Man I would be a good politician 😉
I know when he slept through the night.
I know when he rolled over.
I know his personality at 3.5 months old.
I know he prefers his hands to any toy.
I know he likes Anime in Japanese.
I ALSO know I didn’t “screw up” any of my older ones. That rhetoric needs to take a long walk off a short pier.
I just wasn’t in the moment with them. I wasn’t fully aware and excited about my role in their lives beside “the caretaker with the boobs”.
So problem solved…. NJ is my favorite baby. But he isn’t my favorite child. Because that’s impossible.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.