I never wanted to be the favourite

I had heard the phrase so many times…’oh she’s a momma’s girl, he’s such a momma’s boy’ and felt very ambivalent towards the phrasing. I know that there are many mommas out there who feel a special twinge and a fullness that comes from being the ‘one’ their child needs to get through daily transitions but for me, 99% of the time I feel smothered by it.

When my daughter was going from infancy to toddlerhood I remember being asked ‘so who’s the favourite?’ and I remember being super proud of the fact that she didn’t seem to give one rip whether it was Dad or Mom who bathed her or put her to bed. She didn’t seem to run to either of us in particular when she got a bo-bo. She didn’t discriminate! I didn’t HAVE to be the one to put her to bed, I didn’t HAVE to be the one to snuggle her after a fall. Not that I didn’t want to do those things but I felt a sense of freedom at being able to choose or if I was somewhere else, everything would be just fine and dandy.

When my son was born there was literally no one else that he could be preferential to because no one else wanted to go anywhere near him! So I’m in….I have a momma’s boy. I HAVE to be the one to put him to bed, I HAVE to be the one that holds him when he’s upset. I HAVE to be the one to do most things because it’s just the way it is. Most of the time I’m still ambivalent to it but on one particular night I found a sick satisfaction out of it. I was trying to wrangle him into his pjs and diaper and trying to get him to lay down in his crib so I could quickly go through the repertoire of songs on steady rotation at bedtime. When Dad swooped in to say a sweet little goodbye…that’s when it happened. Son no.2 laid down ever so gently on his pillow. Dad approached and began sweetly caressing his back and saying good night…Son no. 2 whispered something quietly that neither of us could quite make out…Dad ‘what was that babe?’….son no.2 ‘GET OUT’…..well ok then. I stifled a laugh that made me dribble down my legs and Dad tipped the fuck out the door. Sometimes being the fave is not so bad.

xo Kristin

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