Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Playing Favorites.

I was told tonight that my son is my favorite child.  All three of my children confirmed this fact.  It had me stop and think.  How could they possibly think this?  This is the child that has aggravating me more than any other.  He would lie to me about the color of the sky.  I am not kidding. Seriously people.  He was a total butt head and can still be one.  He is just like his dad in so many ways.  Always saying or doing something to press my buttons and then smiling at me with that crooked ass grin that always makes me forgive them.  Ok, yes, he's my baby.  He is the last child I ever had.  He was supposed to be my third daughter.  That is what the doctor told me when I was nine months pregnant with him and told it was a girl and would have to be my last child because my body wasn't doing well with this pregnancy.

I had resigned myself over the next three months to having only girls.  And it wasn't a hard thing to resign myself to.  My two older children are girls and they are amazing, wonderful children.  I am always amazed at how great they have always been.  I hardly ever had to discipline these two.  Just tell them I was upset and that was all it pretty much took to get my point across.  Then comes my baby.  The day he was born there were 9 people in the delivery room.  Yes, 9.  Two best friends, my sister, her boyfriend at the time, my mom, my MIL, aunt, cousin and my husband.  You can imagine the shouts when out came a little boy.  I was shocked, amazed and instantly in love.  Now if you think that this makes him my favorite I would still argue.  I was instantly in love with my other two when they were born.  Granted I was a lot more exhausted after having them.  PJ wasn't labored over.  I never pushed once.  He just kinda came out on his own.  He hasn't stopped moving since.

I often told people that if he would have been born first he would have been an only child.  Not because he completed me so much, but because he exhausted me so much.  He was constantly moving, climbing, breaking and throwing everything.  I felt like I was constantly having to tell him "no!" I was always being the bad guy.  I am thankful that while he liked to tell fibs he was never able to tell me a lie.  He still can't.  All I have to do is ask him to look at me and tell me again and he breaks.  Not like breaks down and tells the truth but cracks a smile.  He can't get through the sentence without that crooked ass grin peaking out.  My baby turns 18 this year.  He is a senior in high school and a good kid.  But he is still a butt head.

So, is he my favorite?  I'll always deny it because I can't even bear the thought of putting my two daughters in a second or third position.  They are extremely special and I love them more than I can say.  What's a mom to do when her baby is adorable, has a crooked ass grin and is always a butt head?

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