Mom's Favorite

On a popular news show this morning, the anchors were discussing whether or not people have "favorite" children. The final consensus was that everyone feels at one time or another that their sibling is the favorite. Growing up as an only child, there were some days I wondered if I was the favorite, so I can't imagine what it must be like with real siblings! As a mother of three, I can see why someone would ask such a question, but it blows my mind that someone would actually admit that they favored one child over another. I have seen countless families where it was obvious to everyone else in the world that there was a favorite child, but rarely have I heard a parent say it out loud. Personally, I will have to agree with the Today show anchors for once. I think every child has their turn to be the favorite. Depending on what day it is and how well they are behaving, I think everyone gets a shot at it.
That being said, does anyone else feel like they have a child that God gave them specifically because if he hadn't, parenting would have been too easy? I have two children who are happy, easygoing, and easy to please 99 percent of the time. And then there's the one. The one who redefines high maintenance. The one who when you say black, she says white. If you want her to dress up, she wants to dress down. Admit it, moms, the one who knows how to push your buttons without even trying. The child who I get in fights with at least twice as often as the other two. The one who makes me think that God took every single trait I don't like about myself, threw in her dad's blue eyes, and gave me...mini me!
I know what you are thinking. The irony of the fact that the kid who can get on my last nerve and jump up and down is EXACTLY like her mother is not lost on me. I'm sure that there's some sort of Freudian psychology mumbo jumbo that describes my conundrum perfectly. I love my daughter to pieces. She has the kindest, most loving heart in the world. She gives amazing hugs, and she loves her sisters with everything she has. She is smart, sweet, and funny. And she knows how to make her mother mad in under 30 seconds with zero effort.
Right now, I'm fairly certain that she pushes my buttons by accident. It's the days that are coming that give me pause. When she discovers her God-given talent for driving me crazy and starts doing it on purpose, I'm really not sure what's going to happen! Stay tuned, because it's going to get interesting.
This particular child is also a whole lot like my mother's mother. My grandmother was overly dramatic about most things, especially her health. I like to joke that she was dying my whole life. Her tombstone actually says, "I told y'all I wuz sick." True story. My husband thought I was joking about that until I showed it to him in the graveyard. My child sounds just like her sometimes. If I believed in reincarnation, I would have to wonder. Last night she told my husband that she was tired and wanted to go on to bed at 8:15. He said, "Are you sick? Do you feel okay?" To which my six year old replied, "Well, I've just had a rough day. I coughed once this morning, and then I sneezed twice. And right now my belly hurts, so I'm not sure what's going on with that." Ah, yes, mommy's little hypochondriac. Here's hoping that she doesn't have some strange, awful childhood illness, because I'll feel like an ass. But I'm going to play the odds and say she just wants some attention, which she gets plenty of on a regular basis, so I don't really understand where that is coming from. Hey, maybe she'll grow up to be an actress and put all this practice to good use. I can hope.
And for the record, I don't have a favorite child. I love each of them differently, but definitely not more or less. I love that they are a perfect mixture of their dad and me. I love the wonderful qualities of their dad's that he gave them, and I love some of the qualities they got that are like me. I saw a post on Facebook the other day that kind of summed it up: I want my kids to be headstrong and independent. Just not while I'm raising them.