This picture:
My girl.
My littlest.
My sidekick.
Stinker.
Manipulator.
Lover.
A light.
I love ALL my kids. To the fullest. I (like many) recently read a post by a mom who said she doesn’t love her one child as much as she loves her other. Or something of the sort.
I don’t agree. I think most moms take issue with such a statement.
I do not love any of my kids more than the other, but…
There are times the favorable emotion I feel toward one of my spawn children is less… often which is closely tied to misbehavior.
But I do not love any/either child more… or less.
While looking at pictures of my 3 blessings (and trials) I am filled. At times so filled, my eyes start leaking. TEARS, if you will.
Each snapshot reminds me of facets of my relationship with my children. The picture of the kid that is getting too cool to take pictures… the picture of the kid who got into mommy’s lipstick… the picture of the kid in shock after opening the Best. Birthday. Present. Ever. Pictures o’ my good ‘ol post-partum days…
The good, the bad, the UGLY.
Regardless… there is no way to measure how much or how I feel I love my children.
I love them equally. But differently.
One boy, two girls… age differences… differing developmental stages… “love languages”…
Each are unique and demand a different expression of love from their Mama – regardless of my own “love language”, regardless of my own need…
And I love them. Wholly. Equally.
But differently.
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