My biological clock is ticking. It's not just an expression, it's very real. I work with beautiful, cherub-faced little babies on a daily basis, and did long before I had my own babies. For years, it didn't faze me. Then one day, I held a newborn in my arms and something switched. I needed a baby, and tomorrow wasn't too soon. Hormones are powerful things, and mine are on the surge again.
I've always wanted to have a big family, but I'm feeling a little gun-shy now that I'm actually faced with the decision. I know that I have time (reproductively speaking), but I don't want the age gap between my girls and the hypothetical baby to be too big. All of my friends with kids have theirs spaced the very typical 2 years apart, but that window has come and gone for us. If we were to get pregnant now, the girls would be 3 when baby is born.
This may sound strange, but I feel a bit cheated. I have my two beautiful children, but I only had one pregnancy, one delivery, one maternity leave, and I only get to go through each stage once. I know I need to count my blessings, but I'm being honest, and those are a few drawbacks that come with twins. People often tell me they would love to have twins, because "you get it done and over with all in one shot". Seriously, I hear this a lot, but I don't share that same mentality. I really enjoyed my pregnancy, I would love to give birth again, and I don't want this to be the last time I have a two year old in my house. All of my friends who are off on maternity leave with baby number two get to be home with their toddler for another year as well. I want another year at home with my girls, which is another reason not to wait too long, or they'll be in school (sniff, sniff). More than another pregnancy, birth, or maternity leave, most importantly, I want another child.
But kids are expensive. Ask anyone, and they'll tell you it doesn't get any cheaper. Luckily having two babies at once already forced us into the bigger house and the minivan. We'd need to reassess what's going to be realistic for extra-curricular activities and family vacations. Maybe those aren't good reasons to not have a child, but we have family in another country. Plane tickets for five might not be possible very often. Someone recently told me "the world is designed for families of four". We do have a good thing going on. As I mentioned in my last blog, I feel like we've hit our stride. We've found a nice balance, so why would I want to change it? It's a bit intimidating to think about. I've been waiting for a sign, but I'm not sure it's coming. A friend of mine whose children are grown told me that I'll always grieve the baby I never had. If we decided to move forward as a family of four, maybe that nagging feeling won't ever go away. I can see why people have 'oops' pregnancies. I would kind of like to let the fates decide this one for me. Maybe I will.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Hitting our Stride
We recently returned from a trip to the mountains with our girls, which involved a lot of car travel, a lot of naps on the go, and 3 nights spent in 3 different places. It was great. The girls did awesome. We took a similar trip about two months ago, and I can't believe how much easier it's becoming to travel, and to be spontaneous, with twins. We did hikes, we camped (in an RV, but it still counts), we stayed in hotels, and we ate in restaurants 3 times a day. I feel like we can do anything again. For a long time that wasn't true. I know in the grand scheme of things that 2 years isn't really that long, but when your lives change like ours did, it felt like a really long time.
I think every expectant parent believes, to some degree, that a new baby will have to adapt to them, not vice versa. That you'll keep doing whatever you did before, and baby will come along for the ride. That your life will not be dictated by baby's schedule ("We're not going to be those parents who..."). This may work well for some people, but this definitely did not work for us. Our 'normal' lives were very much interrupted when babies came into the picture. For months our activities were very much planned around our daughters schedules, and they still are to some extent. Now there's just more flexibility. They don't need to sleep nearly as much or as often, and we don't suffer total meltdowns if bedtime gets pushed up by an hour. With time, we have found a new normal. It didn't take two years, but it took awhile. The training occurs on both ends. We slowly train our babies, and they slowly train us, and somewhere along the way, we find a balance.
I believe that all people thrive on routine. Our minds and bodies function best when we eat, sleep, and are active on a regular basis. As soon as you see what happens when you push your infant past their limits, you never want to do it again. MELT DOWN. Everyone suffers. You're tempted often, by those people who don't see the effects of keeping a "she's doing just fine" baby out a little later. But by the time you're trying to get that baby settled into bed an hour later than usual, she's overtired and stressed, which means she's full of adrenaline, which means a hellish time trying to get her to bed. It happens every time. Once you've been there, your survival instincts kick in, and you learn how to avoid meltdowns at all costs. When there's two babies to contend with, it can become quite restrictive. Any kind of activity had to be carefully timed, and the window is short. Think about getting two babies fed, two diapered, two dressed (possibly diapered again) in car seats, in the vehicle, unloaded, doing said activity (strollercise, play date, shopping, etc.) and then you have to get them loaded back up again and home for a nap, with another feeding and diapering in there somewhere. Your window for all of that might be 2 or 3 hours. Like I said, restrictive. It takes some trial and error (aka meltdowns in public) to figure out what you can and can't accomplish in that time frame. Sunday dinners with our extended family would start at 4 or 5, so that we could leave and get the girls into bed by 7. We did put them down to sleep in one place and transfer them home on a few special occasions, but I wasn't up for the challenge very often. The exhaustion I was experiencing in that first year definitely made it worse. People probably thought I was a real drag, or maybe a bit over the top with how strict I was with our bedtime. My only excuse is that I was in survival mode. Once the girls became good sleepers (which they did), and once chaos didn't ensue when we stepped outside of routine, I became much more relaxed.
Which brings us to now. I'm exhausted just thinking about how much effort it took me to go out with the girls in that first year, and I was doing it on little to no sleep. Now I'm well rested, and going out is leaps and bounds easier. An incredible amount of growth and development happens in that first year, and not just for babies. Becoming parents was a huge adjustment. With time, we've become much more comfortable in our roles. The challenges are there, and I expect they will last a lifetime, but the rewards just keep getting better and better.
I think every expectant parent believes, to some degree, that a new baby will have to adapt to them, not vice versa. That you'll keep doing whatever you did before, and baby will come along for the ride. That your life will not be dictated by baby's schedule ("We're not going to be those parents who..."). This may work well for some people, but this definitely did not work for us. Our 'normal' lives were very much interrupted when babies came into the picture. For months our activities were very much planned around our daughters schedules, and they still are to some extent. Now there's just more flexibility. They don't need to sleep nearly as much or as often, and we don't suffer total meltdowns if bedtime gets pushed up by an hour. With time, we have found a new normal. It didn't take two years, but it took awhile. The training occurs on both ends. We slowly train our babies, and they slowly train us, and somewhere along the way, we find a balance.
I believe that all people thrive on routine. Our minds and bodies function best when we eat, sleep, and are active on a regular basis. As soon as you see what happens when you push your infant past their limits, you never want to do it again. MELT DOWN. Everyone suffers. You're tempted often, by those people who don't see the effects of keeping a "she's doing just fine" baby out a little later. But by the time you're trying to get that baby settled into bed an hour later than usual, she's overtired and stressed, which means she's full of adrenaline, which means a hellish time trying to get her to bed. It happens every time. Once you've been there, your survival instincts kick in, and you learn how to avoid meltdowns at all costs. When there's two babies to contend with, it can become quite restrictive. Any kind of activity had to be carefully timed, and the window is short. Think about getting two babies fed, two diapered, two dressed (possibly diapered again) in car seats, in the vehicle, unloaded, doing said activity (strollercise, play date, shopping, etc.) and then you have to get them loaded back up again and home for a nap, with another feeding and diapering in there somewhere. Your window for all of that might be 2 or 3 hours. Like I said, restrictive. It takes some trial and error (aka meltdowns in public) to figure out what you can and can't accomplish in that time frame. Sunday dinners with our extended family would start at 4 or 5, so that we could leave and get the girls into bed by 7. We did put them down to sleep in one place and transfer them home on a few special occasions, but I wasn't up for the challenge very often. The exhaustion I was experiencing in that first year definitely made it worse. People probably thought I was a real drag, or maybe a bit over the top with how strict I was with our bedtime. My only excuse is that I was in survival mode. Once the girls became good sleepers (which they did), and once chaos didn't ensue when we stepped outside of routine, I became much more relaxed.
Which brings us to now. I'm exhausted just thinking about how much effort it took me to go out with the girls in that first year, and I was doing it on little to no sleep. Now I'm well rested, and going out is leaps and bounds easier. An incredible amount of growth and development happens in that first year, and not just for babies. Becoming parents was a huge adjustment. With time, we've become much more comfortable in our roles. The challenges are there, and I expect they will last a lifetime, but the rewards just keep getting better and better.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
TV... or not TV?
It happened. TV has crept into the lives of my children. I feel guilty admitting it, but I know that it's not going to change. We are on an irreversible path. Maybe irreversible isn't the right word, as it would be possible to eliminate TV, but if I'm being realistic, I highly doubt that's going to happen.
On advice I had read from various experts, I had a no TV policy in my house for the first two years of my girls' lives (almost). This was not at all difficult to accomplish. We simply read books, listened to music, went for walks, and played. I did watch TV during the day when they were newborns, but as soon as I noticed they were starting to pay attention to it, the TV only came on during nap time. When they were 18 months old, we went on a long flight with them, and I brought a portable DVD player with us in case I was desperate. I did become desperate at one point, turned it on for them, and they didn't sit still for more than a minute to watch it. They didn't know how to watch TV! I'm kind of proud of that, actually.
Then one day we were reading about animals, and I wanted them to hear the sound a seal makes, and to see how it claps. So, I pulled it up on YouTube for them. It was great, they loved it, and soon we were searching for more animals to watch in action. Tigers, and lions, and elephants, oh my! And so we began down a slippery slope...
I know our nanny started to let them watch things as well. Mickey Mouse, Elmo, etc. I don't know exactly when that started, or how much they watched, but I do trust that she respected my wishes to limit TV as much as possible. I knew that some viewing was going on, and I let it slide. If the weather is poor it can be a long day cooped up inside with two toddlers, and our nanny doesn't have to luxury of putting the kids in the car and going somewhere for a change of scenery.
A month or two before their second birthday, I started to let them watch cartoons in the mornings while I shower. It buys me 20 minutes that I don't have to worry about what they're doing, because they usually don't move once it's on. It's true, they turn into zombies. That's the worst thing about it. I have seriously done a song and dance in front of them while the TV is on, and they'll barely glance my direction. Disturbing. So it's definitely limited. There are still many days that they watch no TV, and the other days, it's less than an hour total. 20-30 minutes in the morning, and if it's an especially hectic dinner hour, 20-30 minutes while I get things ready.
I have seen some positives, I have to say. They have learned from things they've watched. The other day, they watched a 25 minute episode of Dora, and proceeded to have imaginative play about a "Gooey Geyser" for hours afterward. Yesterday they were telling me about patterns, and how I have to follow them. Dora was doing a puzzle one episode, and out came the puzzles for the whole afternoon. Good things.
So, it's a tool. We use it cautiously. And we absolutely still read, sing, listen to music, go outside, dance, and play.
On advice I had read from various experts, I had a no TV policy in my house for the first two years of my girls' lives (almost). This was not at all difficult to accomplish. We simply read books, listened to music, went for walks, and played. I did watch TV during the day when they were newborns, but as soon as I noticed they were starting to pay attention to it, the TV only came on during nap time. When they were 18 months old, we went on a long flight with them, and I brought a portable DVD player with us in case I was desperate. I did become desperate at one point, turned it on for them, and they didn't sit still for more than a minute to watch it. They didn't know how to watch TV! I'm kind of proud of that, actually.
Then one day we were reading about animals, and I wanted them to hear the sound a seal makes, and to see how it claps. So, I pulled it up on YouTube for them. It was great, they loved it, and soon we were searching for more animals to watch in action. Tigers, and lions, and elephants, oh my! And so we began down a slippery slope...
I know our nanny started to let them watch things as well. Mickey Mouse, Elmo, etc. I don't know exactly when that started, or how much they watched, but I do trust that she respected my wishes to limit TV as much as possible. I knew that some viewing was going on, and I let it slide. If the weather is poor it can be a long day cooped up inside with two toddlers, and our nanny doesn't have to luxury of putting the kids in the car and going somewhere for a change of scenery.
A month or two before their second birthday, I started to let them watch cartoons in the mornings while I shower. It buys me 20 minutes that I don't have to worry about what they're doing, because they usually don't move once it's on. It's true, they turn into zombies. That's the worst thing about it. I have seriously done a song and dance in front of them while the TV is on, and they'll barely glance my direction. Disturbing. So it's definitely limited. There are still many days that they watch no TV, and the other days, it's less than an hour total. 20-30 minutes in the morning, and if it's an especially hectic dinner hour, 20-30 minutes while I get things ready.
I have seen some positives, I have to say. They have learned from things they've watched. The other day, they watched a 25 minute episode of Dora, and proceeded to have imaginative play about a "Gooey Geyser" for hours afterward. Yesterday they were telling me about patterns, and how I have to follow them. Dora was doing a puzzle one episode, and out came the puzzles for the whole afternoon. Good things.
So, it's a tool. We use it cautiously. And we absolutely still read, sing, listen to music, go outside, dance, and play.
Friday, September 10, 2010
A (half) day in the life...
It's only 2:20 p.m., but I'm feeling a little overwhelmed today, and I thought it might be interesting to write down why. Fridays are my stay-at-home-mom days, because I feel guilty working full time, and that gives me a day (in theory) to do things around the house that I'd rather not do on the weekend. Ha! So here is my day so far...
1 a.m. Crying. Loud crying. Into the girls' room, and I blindly find my daughter crying on the floor. She fell out of her new big girl bed (it was night #2, first night went great). Get her settled very quickly, she's asleep almost immediately after I put her back in bed. I feel my way over to her sister's bed to cover her up. Where is she? On the floor on a mound of blankets, asleep. Back into the bed. The beds have guardrails, but only about 1/3 of the way across, and they still sleep in every direction. Mental note to get longer guard rails.
6 a.m. One girl awake (same one that woke up at 1), but she's not really awake. Bring her into bed with me, and she sleeps with me (after we lay down and then she makes me go back to her bed for her baby and her water) for about 45 minutes, then tells me she wants to go back to her bed. Up again, hoping that I can get 15 more minutes, but when we go back to her room, her sister is awake saying "I'm really hungry mommy". I'm up.
7 a.m. Cereal for one. Porridge for the other. Then cereal too. One needs a big girl cup, the other needs a baby (sippy) cup, which I'm happy to give her, because otherwise she'll dump her milk out. I eat all of the leftover cereal, which seems like small amounts, but probably adds up to way more than I should have eaten for breakfast. Poopie bum, wet bum, changed. Then a poopie bum almost immediately after the clean diaper went on. Play. Read some books. Clean up breakfast. Girls have an orange..
9 a.m. Go upstairs to get the girls dressed and do some laundry. I have an overwhelming amount of laundry to do because we had visitors for 2 weeks who left on Tuesday. One girl dressed. Other girl has a poopie bum again (she seriously poops 3-4 times a day, I think that's why she's so tiny). I run downstairs to get diaper cream because she's susceptible to rashes, and when I come back upstairs, I find her with her poopie diaper strewn on the floor, and she's sitting on the toilet in my bathroom, even though there are two little pottys on the floor. (To appreciate this, you have to imagine a very tiny 2 year old hoisting her little bum over the huge bowl with all of her strength). She's never done this before, but they have a new seat that goes on the big potty at grandma's house, so she thought she'd give it a try. "Are you peeing?". "No mommy, but it's coming pretty soon". Okay. No pee, off the toilet we go. Now I have poop to clean off her bum, off the toilet, off the bathroom floor, oh, and now that giant teddy bear she just ran and jumped on. Why didn't I catch her? Because her sister was getting undressed, because this looked like great fun, and wanted to flush the toilet. Okay, everybody sit on the little pottys. Yes, we can wear panties today. Clean up. Panties on. Downstairs with pottys we go.
10 a.m. A few potty attempts. Snack time. Yogurt for one, mini bran muffin for the other. While we are snacking, a pee accident on my kitchen chair that has a fabric seat. Stay calm. Clean up. Let's go for a change of scenery. Off to the store (in diapers) to look for winter boots.
11 a.m. We did great at the store, except that I caved and let them get a cookie from the bakery that I didn't want them to have. Today was the first time they actually asked for it. Yikes, what I bad habit I've started. We didn't buy boots, but the girls ran around in some for awhile. I'm starting to hear a lot more "Mommy, I want that" at the store now. I can ignore that though. I only gave into the cookie, because it works so well, and I can shop in relative peace.
12 p.m. Home. Hands washed. Leftovers for lunch. I discover a package leaked all over my fridge and into the produce drawers. Yuck. Semi-clean up, the rest I leave for nap time. Groceries half put away. Poopie bum, wet bum. Up to their room to read stories.
1 p.m. Stay in your big girl beds and close your eyes. Almost instantly, they're out. First warning. I do some laundry. Second warning, I sit in the chair in their room for a bit. They're calm, I leave. Third warning. I snap, not a proud mommy moment. Then I feel bad and try to give cuddles so they're relaxed and drift off. Didn't work. Fourth warning. I move one girl to the other room where a playpen is set up for my nephew. A bit of crying from both. Some cuddles, and one girl asleep by 1:45. Singing coming from the other room. Too much singing. I go in, she's totally naked except for socks, which she's wearing on her hands. Diaper on, clothes on, cuddles, calm, back to the big girl bed. Shhh, your sister is sleeping. I come downstairs, and I hear whispering on the monitor "wake up sister... wake up". Oh no no, not after all that. I sit beside my daughter's bed until she drifts off. OMG, that took over an hour. Big girl beds is tough.
2:20 p.m. Sitting at the computer. Not cleaning the fridge. Clock is ticking, back to work
1 a.m. Crying. Loud crying. Into the girls' room, and I blindly find my daughter crying on the floor. She fell out of her new big girl bed (it was night #2, first night went great). Get her settled very quickly, she's asleep almost immediately after I put her back in bed. I feel my way over to her sister's bed to cover her up. Where is she? On the floor on a mound of blankets, asleep. Back into the bed. The beds have guardrails, but only about 1/3 of the way across, and they still sleep in every direction. Mental note to get longer guard rails.
6 a.m. One girl awake (same one that woke up at 1), but she's not really awake. Bring her into bed with me, and she sleeps with me (after we lay down and then she makes me go back to her bed for her baby and her water) for about 45 minutes, then tells me she wants to go back to her bed. Up again, hoping that I can get 15 more minutes, but when we go back to her room, her sister is awake saying "I'm really hungry mommy". I'm up.
7 a.m. Cereal for one. Porridge for the other. Then cereal too. One needs a big girl cup, the other needs a baby (sippy) cup, which I'm happy to give her, because otherwise she'll dump her milk out. I eat all of the leftover cereal, which seems like small amounts, but probably adds up to way more than I should have eaten for breakfast. Poopie bum, wet bum, changed. Then a poopie bum almost immediately after the clean diaper went on. Play. Read some books. Clean up breakfast. Girls have an orange..
9 a.m. Go upstairs to get the girls dressed and do some laundry. I have an overwhelming amount of laundry to do because we had visitors for 2 weeks who left on Tuesday. One girl dressed. Other girl has a poopie bum again (she seriously poops 3-4 times a day, I think that's why she's so tiny). I run downstairs to get diaper cream because she's susceptible to rashes, and when I come back upstairs, I find her with her poopie diaper strewn on the floor, and she's sitting on the toilet in my bathroom, even though there are two little pottys on the floor. (To appreciate this, you have to imagine a very tiny 2 year old hoisting her little bum over the huge bowl with all of her strength). She's never done this before, but they have a new seat that goes on the big potty at grandma's house, so she thought she'd give it a try. "Are you peeing?". "No mommy, but it's coming pretty soon". Okay. No pee, off the toilet we go. Now I have poop to clean off her bum, off the toilet, off the bathroom floor, oh, and now that giant teddy bear she just ran and jumped on. Why didn't I catch her? Because her sister was getting undressed, because this looked like great fun, and wanted to flush the toilet. Okay, everybody sit on the little pottys. Yes, we can wear panties today. Clean up. Panties on. Downstairs with pottys we go.
10 a.m. A few potty attempts. Snack time. Yogurt for one, mini bran muffin for the other. While we are snacking, a pee accident on my kitchen chair that has a fabric seat. Stay calm. Clean up. Let's go for a change of scenery. Off to the store (in diapers) to look for winter boots.
11 a.m. We did great at the store, except that I caved and let them get a cookie from the bakery that I didn't want them to have. Today was the first time they actually asked for it. Yikes, what I bad habit I've started. We didn't buy boots, but the girls ran around in some for awhile. I'm starting to hear a lot more "Mommy, I want that" at the store now. I can ignore that though. I only gave into the cookie, because it works so well, and I can shop in relative peace.
12 p.m. Home. Hands washed. Leftovers for lunch. I discover a package leaked all over my fridge and into the produce drawers. Yuck. Semi-clean up, the rest I leave for nap time. Groceries half put away. Poopie bum, wet bum. Up to their room to read stories.
1 p.m. Stay in your big girl beds and close your eyes. Almost instantly, they're out. First warning. I do some laundry. Second warning, I sit in the chair in their room for a bit. They're calm, I leave. Third warning. I snap, not a proud mommy moment. Then I feel bad and try to give cuddles so they're relaxed and drift off. Didn't work. Fourth warning. I move one girl to the other room where a playpen is set up for my nephew. A bit of crying from both. Some cuddles, and one girl asleep by 1:45. Singing coming from the other room. Too much singing. I go in, she's totally naked except for socks, which she's wearing on her hands. Diaper on, clothes on, cuddles, calm, back to the big girl bed. Shhh, your sister is sleeping. I come downstairs, and I hear whispering on the monitor "wake up sister... wake up". Oh no no, not after all that. I sit beside my daughter's bed until she drifts off. OMG, that took over an hour. Big girl beds is tough.
2:20 p.m. Sitting at the computer. Not cleaning the fridge. Clock is ticking, back to work
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Playing Favorites
My husband and I were talking with friends of ours one day, when our girls were around 4 months old, and they told us they each had an idea of which of our girls were our favorites. They meant no harm in saying it, they simply believe that it’s a fact of life that parents will always have a favorite child (they aren’t parents, for the record). Although it was an innocent comment, it has stayed with me (haunted me) since that day. Could I have a favorite? I hate to think so. I’ve spent A LOT of time thinking about the possibility. Our friends were able to quickly name their own parent’s favorites, and my husband believes he knows who his parents favored. I discussed it with other friends to see if they believed the same thing. A few of them acknowledged that yes; they think their parents each favor one child, not necessarily the same one. I thought about my own family. Having three older brothers and being the only girl, I like to think my mom and I have a special bond, but it’s more about being women and mothers. I really don’t think it qualifies me as her favorite child. I don’t think I’m my dad’s favorite, but I would have a hard time guessing which one of my brothers would be. I’ll never know, because I know my parents would never say. This gives me peace of mind, because even if they did have a favorite child, we’ve never felt that way. In this area, they’ve excelled.
I find myself questioning my actions constantly… Do I pick one child up more than the other? Do I always give one of them the bigger half of the cookie? Do I serve one first more often? Do I brag about one more than the other? I know I try to give equal kisses and equal cuddles, and it’s easy to do that because they’re the same age and often playing close together. I don’t know if everything is equal, I’m sure it’s not, but I don’t know who is ‘ahead’, so I’m hoping they don’t know either. I guess it’s positive that I’m trying to keep myself in check. In all of my pondering, I’ve come to the conclusion that one day I may share more traits with one child, or bond with one over shared interests. It’s a likely possibility. But to love one more deeply, I’m not so sure. If that happens (I’m positive it hasn’t happened to this point), I would never want them to feel that way, so in this aspect I will model my parenting style after my own parents…Love and praise and attention for all, in abundance.
The only thing I know, with absolute certainly, is that my children bring me joy. Their smiles melt my heart. Their intelligence baffles me. I would suffer profoundly if anything were to happen to either of them. It’s unthinkable to me, and I know that I would do anything to protect them. I love them with the depth that I could never have imagined loving anything. Can that be measured? I don't think so.
And another thing…
Awhile ago I discovered what it was that made my friend decide which child was my ‘favorite’. She based her opinion on the colors I had painted their names on their bedroom wall. I painted those letters when they were just days old. I had been so worried that she had based her opinion on her observations of my interaction with my daughters, but all it was based on was which color she prefers. And I lost sleep over it!
I find myself questioning my actions constantly… Do I pick one child up more than the other? Do I always give one of them the bigger half of the cookie? Do I serve one first more often? Do I brag about one more than the other? I know I try to give equal kisses and equal cuddles, and it’s easy to do that because they’re the same age and often playing close together. I don’t know if everything is equal, I’m sure it’s not, but I don’t know who is ‘ahead’, so I’m hoping they don’t know either. I guess it’s positive that I’m trying to keep myself in check. In all of my pondering, I’ve come to the conclusion that one day I may share more traits with one child, or bond with one over shared interests. It’s a likely possibility. But to love one more deeply, I’m not so sure. If that happens (I’m positive it hasn’t happened to this point), I would never want them to feel that way, so in this aspect I will model my parenting style after my own parents…Love and praise and attention for all, in abundance.
The only thing I know, with absolute certainly, is that my children bring me joy. Their smiles melt my heart. Their intelligence baffles me. I would suffer profoundly if anything were to happen to either of them. It’s unthinkable to me, and I know that I would do anything to protect them. I love them with the depth that I could never have imagined loving anything. Can that be measured? I don't think so.
And another thing…
Awhile ago I discovered what it was that made my friend decide which child was my ‘favorite’. She based her opinion on the colors I had painted their names on their bedroom wall. I painted those letters when they were just days old. I had been so worried that she had based her opinion on her observations of my interaction with my daughters, but all it was based on was which color she prefers. And I lost sleep over it!
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