Wednesday, August 1, 2012

I'll try them all please


Occasionally, in a fit of drama, the four-year-old will accuse me of loving his sister more than I love him. When this happens, I reassure him that I love him and his sister equally, but if he only knew…

I will admit that when I was pregnant this time around, I had fleeting moments of self-doubt. How would I ever love another child with the same intensity (some might say smothering affection) that I had loved my first? From the moment they put him on my chest, I forgot that seconds before I had accused him of trying to kill me.

I had never loved like that before. Let me explain, in case my husband is reading, that I do, in fact love him (believe me, I am not the type of woman who would launder the underwear of a man I didn’t love). This, however, was in a completely different category altogether. After all, when I met my husband, I did not instantaneously think, “If a train were barreling toward you, I would jump onto the tracks without a moment’s hesitation.” This feeling was so overwhelming that I had a hard time imaging I could feel it about anyone else, but when they handed me my daughter, there it was again.

I love my children for different reasons, and it’s because of their differences that I’m able to love them both. My son, despite looking just like his father, inherited my, shall we say, intensity for life. He speaks, plays, and moves with passion. He likes to get his own way (must be his dad’s side coming out there), which sometimes causes us to butt heads. We are alike in many ways, both unable to mask emotion on our faces. When something is important to us and we love it, we go at it full-tilt. If it’s not, well, we’re stubborn to the end. He will randomly say things like, “Mom, your heart will always be in my heart” (where does a four-year-old come up with this stuff?) or “I love you, Mom.” He is loyal and will stand up for himself and others. He’s compassionate, always the first on the soccer field to rush over and see why somebody’s on the ground. He got his dad’s sense of irony, and his humor is sometimes wry and sometimes silly.

Our daughter is, of course, still developing her own personality, but already she’s different from her brother. What R took out of the genetic pool from my husband, K took from me. Our baby pictures are interchangeable except for eye color. She is easy-going, playful, almost always smiling. She has recently started diving for people’s noses with her mouth open; then laughing hysterically at their reactions (usually fear, as she has just grown four sharp new teeth). Whereas my son started getting impatient with being held soon after he began crawling, she loves to snuggle. I have a feeling that she may be what my grandparents used to refer to as, “a character.”

Those who know me know that I love dessert. When I’m offered a choice between two different types of cake, I always want to try both. I love the chocolate cake for its bold taste, and smooth texture, but I also love the carrot cake because it has a hint of spice and some nuttiness. I appreciate them because they each have their own distinct flavor.

So what I want to tell R when he accuses me of not loving him and his sister the same is that he’s right. I don’t. Having more than one kid is like having your choice of desserts, and more dessert is always a good thing in my book.

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