I’ve changed most of the diapers. Taught most of the lessons. Wiped the most tears, and I’ve kissed most of the booboos. I’ve stayed up the most nights, and rocked them back to sleep. I’ve sang all of the lullabies, and dedicated the majority of the past 7 years to my kids, and still, they like their father more than me.
Maybe this sounds selfish, maybe it’s petty, or silly, or just flat-out stupid, but as the stay at home parent, the one who is here the MOST, it stings a little to know that I’m the least favorite. Every day when my children’s father comes home, it’s a celebration. They are elated. There are hugs and details from their days that I never got to hear. At times, it almost feels like they are relieved not to be stuck with me anymore. On the rare occasion that I get to go out without the kids, I come home hoping for the same joyous welcoming. It isn’t there. There are no hugs, no details, no celebration. Just a “Hi Mommy.” Punch to the gut. I hate that it makes me feel bad, and there’s seemingly nothing I can do to change it.
I know that they love me. I have no doubts about that fact- but they just don’t LIKE me as much, and why? It’s a question that has plagued me since the moment it seemed like they began to favor him over me. I’m not mean, or awful, or overbearing. I’m not always the “bad cop”, not always the enforcer. We laugh a lot. We have fun all the time. We cuddle and watch movies. We slack off together. I’ve gone above and beyond. I may have even considered bribery. I can’t help it- I just want to be the favorite for once.
……but I don’t think that’s going to happen. At least, not until they’re out on their own and realize how frickin’ awesome I am. Hopefully sooner, but maybe not. And I’ve had to learn to be okay with that, because I have no other choice. Still, I can’t help but to wonder, and all the wondering and head-scratching (and maybe some table flipping) lead me to one conclusion:
I may not be their favorite- but I AM their constant. That’s what we stay at home parents are to our kids. Constants. They know that, no matter what, we will always be there for them, for whatever they need. They KNOW that. They don’t question it, they don’t worry about it, and because they’ve always had it, they don’t really even think about it. They might even (frequently) take advantage of it. That’s how safe and secure they feel about our presence.
I’m not AT ALL saying the kids think the other parent is going to flee the moment they get the chance (even if it’s quite tempting at times!)- but those of us who may not be the favorites have something special of our own. We are there. We are their north stars- and that’s nothing to feel bad about.
Person on tv: Age is just a number! 10yo: Yeah, a number that pulls you closer to death.
Party animal over here pic.twitter.com/OVpKPuu4Yc
Proving to my kids that they ARE Friends goo.gl/fb/QbSSNp
Writing my next book Me: My period inspired a whole new chapter! Husband: Your lack of period inspired a whole book... Me: pic.twitter.com/fpNHwnYeAF
The card my kid made me at school. I truly don't know why I expected anything different 😂😂 pic.twitter.com/T7nai0ycqS
Valentine's Day before 4pm and I'm already putting on pajamas because my uterus is bloated to the size of a Buick and erupting like Mount Vesuvius so I guess you could say I'm feeling PRETTY romantic.