Favorite Child

Years from now, when my children ask me, "Mom? Who is your favorite?" I will answer, "None of you."

And when they ask, "So you love us all the same?" I will say, "I didn't say that!"

I know the diplomatic answer is that I love each of my children equally - but it's just not true. To say that I love one of my children exactly the same as I love another of my children is to say that I have the exact same relationship with the one child as I do with the other.

I don't.

Each of my three (so far) children is beautiful beyond reckoning. Seriously - have you seen my kids? They are definitely gifted with good looks that their father and I can't reconcile with our own limited-by-comparison genetic makeup. Except their eyes. Those are definitely their father's.

(Except maybe Henry. Too early to tell - but he may get my hazel-green peepers!)

Each of my children is smart. Clever. Creative. Hilarious. Each of them is a joy to spend time with.

And they all have the same nose.

But I do not have the same relationship with all of them. We have a groove that works when we're all together - but during those precious moments when I have one of them one-on-one, we are different with one another. Our individual relationship has a chance to stretch and run around a bit, and it becomes wonderfully obvious.

And so my answer will be: I do not love one of you more than the others. I do not love one of you less than the others, either. But I do not love you the same.

And that is pretty darn cool.