My last post was about being the preferred parent,
but here I am flipping that around:
Is there a preferred child?
Before any panties get twisted,
I know parents don't have favorites.
(and there's a big "but" there)
BUT sometimes one kid is easier than the other,
maybe by the stage of life
or just because of personality.
Jessica Garvin made a note that of her three girls,
one of them she felt the closest to early on,
simply because that girl was the most like her.
(Of course can I find the post?
Not at all, so just take my word for it. K, thanks)
The more Aaron has grown,
the more I see ME written all over him.
He is an Extrovert Extreme.
He wants things to be organized and tidy.
"Daddy, pick up your socks! Daddy, put your dishes away!"
(I love it)
He likes a good plan.
"Where are we going after nap?
What's after bed?
What's after tomorrow's bed?"
Even his imagination dreams like I did.
His crazy monkey stories astound my parents
and they tell me it's like listening to me talk about my doll Susan all over again.
(from my IG stories)
I've never worried about being a good mom to Aaron.
I feel like I know how he thinks and I can work with it.
Then there's Oliver.
Early on, Oliver leaned towards Adam's tendencies.
His Velcro Baby suction-hold on me reminded my MIL of her early days with Adam.
(given the choice of almost any party, Adam will opt for a night in).
I told myself:
"It'll be just like having a second Adam. No biggie!"
Maybe it's his age, as I already said, I'm struggling with Oliver at this stage.
No less than 10 times a day,
I sigh and say:
"What is your deal, child?!?!?!"
Maybe it's because he's so different from me.
I actively worry about how to parent this little man.
I try to do the same things that worked for Aaron
and they don't work.
(This, of course, is not shocking for any parent of 2+ kids, so yes yes, I'm still learning!)
With Aaron, if I gave him a snack he didn't like,
he'd fuss and whine but eventually
he'd either give up and eat it
or forgo eating and entertain himself.
With Oliver, if I give him something he doesn't like,
he throws it across the room and screams bloody murder.
(A little old lady got pummeled with a blueberry at Chick-Fil-A the other day.)
Sometimes I have flashforward nightmares to Oliver being a young adult
and saying things like:
"You never loved me mom because you never gave me what I need."
and I'm sitting there exasperated like:
"But I didn't know what you needed!"
Anyone ever have flashforward fears like this?
I don't have any conclusions here.
Just the ramblings of a frustrated mom.