The Favorite Child

I'm convinced there's no such thing.



I used to think that the favorite child shifted among the children to the one who is sad or hurt or sick or lonely. Whatever the situation dictated. It's not true. Only the focus shifts, not the love.

Two days after Teague's surgery, Quinn and I had an opportunity to go check Braiden out of school and bring him to the hospital to see his brother. I was amazed at how much I had missed that kid. We couldn't get to the school fast enough. I couldn't wait to get my arms around him. Couldn't squeeze him tight enough. But as soon as we were in the car headed back to the hospital, I wanted to already be there. I'd been away from my recovering baby for too long.

This has been the only situation where I can see a perk for Braiden having divorced parents. This time, it was Braiden being shielded from some of the pain. Although he was anxious for Teague, I was so grateful that he could be with his mom during the crazy part and have his normal, everyday life.

For Tatum, I shed tears. Not even six years old and having a sick brother and an absent mother. Ten days of bouncing between grandmas, aunts, and friends (to whom we are so grateful) was hard on her. Her emotions are still close to the surface, and she's a little higher on the sass scale. But she, like Teague, is getting back to normal. The whole thing is an adjustment.

There is no situation, at least that I've experienced so far, that can make you want to mother one kid more than another. It can only make you have to.