Favorites

This evening, as I was putting Abby to bed, we had this exchange. For context, we just got Abby a larger bed, but didn’t have time to assemble it today, so it’s sitting in the garage. She was asking about her current toddler bed.

Abby: How will you take it [out of the room]?

Me: I’ll just carry it out and put it in the garage.

Abby, after thinking for a bit: God is biggest, so maybe you can ask Him to carry it.

That killed me.

I think Abby is my favorite again. Yes, I’m acknowledging that I have a favorite. But it changes. That’s why I’m fine saying it. I love both my children deeply, and the favorite thing isn’t a permanent status. I think it’s fine.

In fact, I don’t see how it’s possible not to. How is it possible? I grill parents all the time about their favorites. Some straight up admit that they have one. Actually, one friend of mine, both he, his siblings and his parents all straight up say how he is the favorite. I love that because it’s so honest. That’s the only example of a permanent favorite I know – the others that admit they have a favorite are like me; they say it changes.

Other parents say they love their kids exactly equally. I don’t buy it. That just seems inhuman. More believably, other parents say that they love their children differently, and thus it’s hard to compare it quantitatively.

I’m actually closer to that. I do love my kids differently. It’s pretty much impossible to love a toddler in the same way as a 3-year-old. The favorite thing is really which quality I happen to jive with at the moment. Kind of like choosing between Chicago-style and New York-style pizza. Love both, just depends on the mood.

But yeah, I’ve been jiving a lot with Abby lately. It was Joshua for a while, and I told people that, and I they facetiously commented that I didn’t love Abby, which is deeply untrue, but yeah. Just, talking with her now is just consistently entertaining. It’s a lot of fun.