Sometimes I feel guilty when I have a "favorite child moment." It's not that I generally prefer one of my children over the other. It's more about the moment and the situation.
For example, Andre was my favorite child at Halloween. He looked adorable in his elephant costume, babbling "ma" to ask for candy and "gnagna" to thank the giver. He even blew kisses as he left each house with a big smile on his face.
Luca was my favorite child at bedtime yesterday. I read him a book and tucked him in, then lay beside him for a few minutes as usual. He searched for and held my hand, then whispered "adios Mami" when I left.
When I was pregnant with Andre, I wondered how it would be possible for me to love him as much as I already loved Luca. Although intellectually I knew it was possible, I didn't feel it was possible. Now that I know and feel that love for my children has no bounds, I do feel a guilty moment when I prefer one child over another. What I've come to learn, however, is that the preference is only temporary and eventually balances out. Andre threw a tantrum after trick or treating, and Luca emerged from the bedroom after our sweet good night ritual announcing he wanted to watch "Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakel."
The Edge of Everything
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