Playing Favorites

I know a lot of mothers whom, once they get pregnant with their second child, worry how they will ever love another baby as much as their first-born. I never felt that I would love my daughter any less than my son. Without taking anything away from my son, I knew that my heart was definitely big enough to love another child. And I can honestly say that I was right— from the minute my beautiful daughter Julianna was born, I felt the same joy and love that my son awoke in me.

However, now that my daughter is a bit older, I feel another emotion: guilt. For the first two years of my son's life, I worked part time as an editor while my parents tenderly looked after Michael. On my days home from work, I relished every moment with him; we took classes, played, read and snuggled endlessly. When Michael was a baby, we shared a special bond. He depended on me for everything, and I willingly indulged him.

My daughter Jules has always been a good girl. She was a super-easy infant and continues to be much less difficult than her older brother. Yet, I can't help but feel that she is more independent and self-reliant because my time as a stay-at-home mom is split between Jules and Michael. Jules is forced to share all of her toys and books. What she watches on TV is often requested by my son (hence why she loves Lightning McQueen and Diego). And though we all have fun together, Jules hardly ever enjoys the one-on-one time I gave to her brother.

There are days that I marvel at how much my daughter knows, how she picked up certain knowledge. I also wonder if she would like a certain TV show or toy, had circumstances been different. When Michael was her age, I knew so much about his likes and dislikes, his personality quirks and what would cause him to melt down. Probably because she is so mild mannered, I allow Jules to her do her own thing more often, and she lets me know when she needs me. Is this a reflection of her personality or did I use up my best parenting on my first-born?