You Know and I Know, and That's All That Matters.

Let me ask a question that no one will answer honestly (maybe not even me, but I will try).

Do you have a favorite child? Did your parents like one of your siblings the best?

Here is why I ask. Sitting in the speech therapy office the other day I was flipping through Time magazine waiting on Ryder's session to end. I came across a fascinating article about parents choosing favorites when it comes to kids.  We all know it happens (unless you are an only child: you are number one by default), but will you admit to doing it or would your parents?  The study suggested that it is a basic survival instinct to nurture one child more than another.  This is common practice in the animal world.  The black eagle will watch as her strongest offspring eats her weaker offspring. Talk about favoritism. This, however, in the real world can cause some serious sibling rivalry (luckily though, the number of sibling eating sibling violence is pretty non-existent.) The article went on to discuss the study and the percentage of which sibling is liked more than another.  It was reported that "65% of mothers and 70% of fathers exhibited a preference for one child, usually the older one. And those numbers are almost certainly lowballs" (Kluger).  The article also noted that most parents will fiercely deny this idea of favoritism and that the number one kid, who usually knows he or she is number one, remains under the radar about it to keep the peace with the other siblings.  No child usually wants to create animosity from his or her siblings. We watch movies and TV shows all of the time that portrays one child as the "golden child" and another as the jealous or left in the shadows sibling. Think about it, what would Robert be without Raymond Barone (In the voice of Brad Garrett: Everybody Loves Raymond). This was so interesting, and it made me think about my own family.

I have two older brothers, and we always "jokingly" (are we really though?) argue over who is number one kid.  This has been running for years.  We will occasionally tell the other siblings that one of them is number one if we feel that that sibling deserves it temporarily (for example, I graciously allowed Chris number one status when he was so sick in the hospital last year.)   I, however, stand by the fact that I am probably number one: I am the girl, the youngest, and the most sensitive to my parents.  My competition is tough though:

Sawyer thinks he's #1

Chris is the oldest. Statistically the oldest is usually number one because as the article puts it (and I am paraphrasing) parents have invested more time and money into the oldest and therefore, feel more attached.  He also has some serious health issues that make my parents more prone to worrying about him. Chris, however, is a different personality than me or Brad. He is seemingly gruff, though he is also very funny and does like to hang around with mom and dad even if he doesn't outright admit it. But because he is more prone to calling things like he sees it instead of saying what he thinks people want to hear, he comes off as not quite as much of a people person as Brad or me.  This, in my opinion, makes him even more ripe for the number one picking.  Mom and dad are constantly trying to please him more since he doesn't seem as obviously pleased as quickly as say I do.  He is also a whiz at computers and technology and is the go to guy for tech help in our family, another skill that I lack.  And I will just throw in that he has an awesome wife and has given mom and dad not only their first two grandchildren, but also the only girl.  That is a lot to compete with.

Mike's Christmas cards from me and Chris

He looks pretty "doctorly" here huh?!

Brad is the middle child.  The middle child is usually the one who is lost in the shuffle and rarely ranks numero uno on the favorite list.  It is even worse if the gender card is not in that child's favor either, if say the middle child is not the only boy or the only girl, which is the case for Brad.  But somehow, Brad managed to shine in this middle category despite the odds.  He has always been a funny personality, ultra competitive and still is very confident (And also a bit of a neat freak).  He probably most famously in our family brought light to the whole "who is the favorite kid" argument the year he gave my parents a card for Christmas that simply said something to the sound of "Mom and Dad, I know you love all of your kids equally, but...(inside of the card) You know and I know and that's all that matters." (This was hilariously followed up the next Christmas when both Chris and I gave mom and dad a home made card that featured our kids and proclaimed us as number one.  We thought we would show the other siblings up. The hilariousness of it was that we had no idea the other would produce a similar card.  Brad just laughed and said he had been the original and needed no follow up card.) Brad was a great student and athlete and is now a very successful doctor, who is also married to a very successful doctor.  Whereas Chris is the go-to tech guy, Brad is the go-to "I'm sick and need medical advice for free" guy.  That can make a kid pretty popular and a parent feel pretty proud.

well, here we all are, sans mom. I am clearly the most normal if nothing else...

Contrary to popular belief, as the youngest, I am statistically not the typical pick for favorite by terms of the animal world.  But because human beings are much more compassionate than say, the black eagle, the youngest sometimes wins favor with one or both parents because that child represents the end of child rearing or because one parent possibly believes or suspects an older child's favoritism by the other parent and thus tries to make up for the younger child's lack of extra admiration.  However, despite the fact that youngest kids often get the left overs, when it comes to being "number one," I believe that I bring a lot to the table.  Besides the obvious that I already stated (mostly being the only girl out of the two boys gives me a better shot according to studies), I am extremely close to my parents (some may call it dependent, whatever, judge if you must), and I spend tons of time with them because I want to, not because I have to.  Another factor in my favor is that I am (or at least I believe that I am) pretty easy to get along with.  Although I have my "Mike Marker" moments, as we might put it around our house, overall, I am pretty much happy to do whatever.  I am typically not overly bossy, and I would definitely categorize myself as a people pleaser, especially if those people are my parents.  (Just FYI, the article also mentions how looks come into play, and that the best looking child is often favored.  Clearly I have that one in the bag. Just sayin').


Obviously, if you know or have met my parents, you know that they go almost stupidly overboard to ensure that we don't think that there is a favorite.  (Maybe they suspect that we suspect that there is? Did that make sense?) For example: If my dad calls one of us to check on how we are doing, he feels obligated to call the other two.  If he gives one of us money or buys us something, he will keep a tally mentally so he can give the others the equal amount in some form or fashion.  There have been numerous times that I have had say "Dad, seriously, I don't care if they got SO and SO; it is not a big deal." I cannot even begin to count how many times I have said hey to Brad on a video tape when he cannot be at a family function (he lives out if town) so that if for some reason he ever saw the tape (which he probably never will) he won't feel left out.  If my parents have a favorite, I know they would be the ones who would deny it to the grave. (Good thinking mom and dad. Mums the word.) The honest truth is that they have probably decided their children-in-laws are the favorite.  They are all of the perks of kids with less hassle.



So I decided to look at my own boys to try and decide who was my favorite (okay, just hold on before you decide I am horrible).  And you know, I HONESTLY cannot pick. Here is why: it is no secret that I had a bit of a rough time transitioning into motherhood after Ryder was born. When Sawyer came along, he was a breeze. He was more calm and peaceful as a newborn. Heck, he slept from day one.  But really, I was more calm and that made the difference.  I occasionally joked that Sawyer was my favorite because he was so easy (yes, I would pick a favorite based on ease.) When I thought about each of them separately I realized that trying to pick a favorite would be like picking what I liked better, my flattering black dress or my perfect fitting jeans! They are apples and oranges. I cannot pick because I really love them for their different qualities. Ryder is a superhero, loud, all over the place, a Dennis the Menace if you will. Though Sawyer is developing his own personality, he is a bit lower key than Ryder, calmer and more content by himself.  I think that parents often just love their kids differently, and that is okay.  It doesn't mean I feel less in love with one of them or that I wouldn't give my life up for either of them, but depending on my mood, I may prefer to play with one over the other. Just like I may eat the apple instead of the orange or opt for jeans instead of the dress.  I do hope to never make one of them feel that he is loved less than the other, because that would be a lie. All I know is that they are my boys, and I love them both for who they are.  Now, let's just hope I don't have to rewrite this if I am ever lucky enough to have that baby girl...

So, am I the favorite? Well, to borrow a line from Brad "You know and I know and that's all that matters!"

If you want to check out the article that I read and used to refer to in this blog, click here: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,2094371,00.html

Source:
Kluger, Jeffrey.  "Playing Favorites." Time. Time Inc. 3 Oct 2003. Web. 11 June 2012.

The Magic of the Markers

Have you ever seen Leave it to Beaver, the black and white fifties based sitcom that portrays the wholesome Cleaver family? The show stars Ward, the bread winning father; June, the beautiful and domestic housewife; Wally, the seemingly cool yet sometimes awkward teenager; and “the Beave,” the mischievous and curious little brother. While on the air, this great American fictional family served as a role model for the typical American family to emulate. The show endorsed upright moral principles, loving yet firm parenting skills, and promoted happy, healthy marriages, but times have changed in the forty nine years since the show went off the air. The majority of today’s families are either divorced or consist of single parents, and many children seem to rule the roost with cocky attitudes. However, despite these changes, my family, the Markers, have managed to stay more traditional. I come from a “Cleaveresque” type family; my parents, Mike and Cathy, have been married for forty three years and are more in love today than when they met. While I was growing up, my father worked and provided for my family, while my mother stayed at home to take care of me and my two older brothers. Like the Cleavers, they parented with love and instilled moral values in each of us. They were fair, yet firm when we were children, and have served as the model around which I have molded my adult life. This is not to say, however, that my family is perfect. Though the family dynamics and moral aspects of my childhood may have resembled that of black and white wholesome television, there were some distinct difference between June and Ward and Mike and Cathy. Personality wise, my parents are unique. 

My father is an exceptional man. As a little girl in pigtails, I remember thinking that he was the smartest man I had ever met. Twenty five years later, I still believe that to be true. There is hardly a trivia question he cannot answer, and he is filled to the brim with intriguing, miscellaneous information. He works as a professor at a four year university where he imparts knowledge to others for a living. Do not, however, confuse his studiousness with dullness. He has a one of a kind personality, and it only seems to flourish with time.

Unlike Ward Cleaver, my father does not simply come home from work expecting to find peace and quiet by reading the paper, watching the news, and smoking cigars. My father has personality, and it is that personality that makes him so enjoyable. He is known in my family for his distinct and often hilarious qualities. One is buying in bulk. My father will buy anything in bulk, the more the better. Some of his favorite items to buy in bulk are clothes, especially if they are on sale. One year for Christmas, I received four pairs of overalls, all exactly alike in different colors. A few years later he bought me, my mother, and my sister-in-laws matching candy pink leather jackets (it was bad, I must admit). He decided that since the jackets were on sale and were such a good deal that he would go back to the store to get us the purple and green jackets, purchasing a total of nine altogether (really bad). A few years ago he decided it was time for a new car. He bought three cars in the span of about a month, two just alike. A few years later he purchased my brother’s car when the lease was up, and though he already had two trucks, he later completed his “car lot” with one more truck. That is a grand total of five vehicles. Did I mention my mom doesn’t drive, only him. These are just a few of the items that my father enjoys buying in multiples. It is also only one small aspect that makes him so unique and fun.

Another endearing quality that I love about my father is his love for everything western. Most men go through a mid life crisis when they get older and feel the need to buy a sports car. Not my father; instead, he turned into John Wayne. About five years ago to my mother’s dismay, he converted my old bedroom into a “cowboy room” after I moved out and he became proficient at twirling cap guns (a skill he is teaching my oldest son). He was even known to check the mail in his athletic shorts, western hat, cowboy boots, and gun holster. I think this love for cap guns and cowboys actually comes from his childhood memories of watching westerns on black and white television. And as Cleaveresque as my father may be, I hardly believe that Ward would ever buy a woman’s fashion belt simply because the color of the leather matched his gun holster.

These funny quirks are just the tip of the iceberg. My father is like a one man paparazzi, taking so many pictures that my family automatically poses when he walks in the room in anticipation of the picture that is sure to follow. His picture taking has even resulted in some family squabbles (Christmas Gate 08—but that is an entirely different story!) He has been known to buy candy bars and hide them in my mother’s dishes and even in empty Oat Bran cereal boxes so that others will not eat them. He has the gift of gab and can go on for hours about pretty much any subject, and he enjoys more than anything spending quality time with those he loves. This love is most evident when he is around his children. Despite the fact that I am thirty, have been married for eight years, supported by my husband and have a wonderful job, my father still feels the need to help me financially. He only recently stopped balancing my checkbook (make fun, that’s fine) and still will deposit money into my bank account or give me spending money occasionally. He gives freely to my brothers and our children as well. In fact, he would be a lot richer if he would stop giving all of us his paycheck! We try to convince him this is not necessary, but he does it out of love, not necessity. It is these qualities, along with so many very funny other ones, that make my father such a sweet, loving role model.

My mother is also filled with personality and compassion. I have always hoped to be as caring a mother to my children as she has always been to me. Like June Cleaver, she is an excellent homemaker, and although growing up my mother didn’t vacuum in pearls and heels, she did always have dinner on the table for my family when we arrived home from school each day. Unlike June Cleaver, her decision to stay at home with her family was not simply based on the notion that a woman’s place was in the home. Her role as stay at home mom was the result of an unfortunate eye disease known as retinitis pigmentosa (RP). At the age of thirty two, she began suffering from this genetic disease and has had to learn to cope with narrowing vision while also raising a family. Although she is not completely blind, she is very limited visually, cannot drive, and must be helped when navigating unfamiliar territories. Like June, her attitude is always cheery. She never complains about the often hilarious mishaps she finds herself in due to her RP. In fact, my family loves to get a chuckle from them. When I was younger, she hung a coat over a lady’s head because she could not see her sitting in the chair for which she was aiming. Another time she enthusiastically hugged a maintenance man that she mistook for my husband. At a restaurant, she once forced a lady, whom she thought was her friend, into giving up her box of leftovers only to later spot her actual friend standing in a completely different location. On another occasion, she stood in line at what she thought was the Wal-Mart customer service desk for forty-five minutes only to discover she had mistakenly been standing behind a life-size blow-up of Shrek. She has been known to show up in public wearing mismatched shoes or two different earrings. Despite how disheartening all of these things may sound, and trust me, these are simply a few of the funny stories she has to tell, she still manages to laugh at every funny story and take it in stride.

My mother’s determination and perseverance is like none other. Her outlook on life is always positive and I enjoy all of the time I have ever spent with her. As a teenager, I was excited to start driving so that my mother and I could go shopping by ourselves. Now that I am older, she helps me with my boys, and I confide to her my hopes and dreams and even hang out with her on the weekends. We usually end up laughing so hard when we are together that I swear I almost pee my pants! She is a great Nana, even if sometimes she puts a diaper on backwards or can’t find which end is up on the baby! She is the ultimate mom and friend, though not the type of parental friend that allows a child to run wild. Her abilities are amazing. She manages to keep an orderly house, provide multiple laughs for my family, and maintain loving friendships with her children, all while having fun doing it! She truly is a role model for moms that could give June Cleaver a run for her money. 

June and Ward Cleaver made television history by portraying the “ideal” family. Their contribution to TV history portrayed wholesome moral values, family togetherness, and perfect parenting skills. Based on what the Cleavers stood for, my family is about as close to “perfect” as one could hope for. Obviously, nuclear families do not necessarily equal happy families, and no family is perfect, including mine. My family, like all others, is susceptible to conflicts and clashes, and unlike the Cleavers, not every disagreement in my house can be solved within a timely thirty minutes. Nonetheless, I was lucky enough to grow up in a home where fights were few and far between and love was expressed openly. I can only hope that one day my precious boys will think back to their home life with the same fondness that I feel for mine.

Mommies Don't Get Naps...

The last few days Sawyer has not been feeling too well. He woke about every two hours last night and was extremely irritable all day yesterday. Top that off with the fact that Ryder took a late nap yesterday and was ready to go until at least 11:30 last night. He kept popping up in my room and climbing in my bed. I kept having to get up to remove him. By the time I went to bed, I was tired--getting up with Sawyer did not help. So this morning I would have loved to have slept in. Didn't happen. But what did happen was that my mom came over at about 12 and sweetly offered for me to go take a long nap. I haven't taken a daytime nap in who remembers when! Naps--I remember naps--The thought sounded wonderful.

One of my friends at school and I joke about our naps (her real ones and my fantasized ones) with a funny name she came up with. Let's say she is planning on an afternoon nap on a Friday; that is a FAN. If it is Thursday, it is the TAN (get it). So today I was going to take a SAN.

Oh, but remember, the title of this is blog: Mommies Don't Get Naps.

So I hurried and cleaned the kitchen up (I am totally OCD and cannot sleep knowing crumbs are in the floor) and planned to head to my room. Then, Sawyer stunk up the room. I literally thought our toilet had flooded. SO, off I went to change him! Once I struggled to hold him down and diaper him, I handed him off to mom to rock. In the mean time, Ryder came into the room to tell me how clean he was. "Okay?" I said. (This never means anything good). He then had me follow him to his room to show me the spilled Yoohoo, which he had covered up with his rug. He also saw a smushed Oreo and yelled "EWE...DOO DOO!") I cleaned this mess up and situated Ryder in the den to watch Caillou. At that point, I decided to put Sawyer's ear drops in while he was asleep. This woke him up slightly, and I waited for him to settle so I could transfer him to the crib for mom. Then mother went to the den with Ryder. I made sure they were okay, then climbed into my bed! "How awesome," I thought. It took about 5 seconds after I closed my eyes for mom to yell "Are you in bed?" "Yes," I said flatly. I knew where this was going. "Ryder messed up the TV." So I climbed out of bed, headed into the den and fixed the TV. At this point, Ryder figured out I was doing something without him. He followed me to my room and said he would take a nap with me. Sure. Okay.

We snuggled in the bed and got comfortable. That lasted about .4 seconds. He then spotted my computer and wanted to play a game. "No!" I told him. He does not like being told no. He argued and whined and I finally told him bluntly that he did not always get everything he wanted. At this he huffed and crossed his arms and proclaimed "You are mean mommy. You are not my Frand!" I said "Fine--get out of my bed." This made him cry. The nap was not going well.

I eventually compromised and sent him into the den with my iPad to watch whatever it was he wanted to watch and off he ran. I settled down, got in that place where you are almost asleep but still kind of awake, and then realized I hadn't heard mom say anything to Ryder when I sent him to the den. I listened and heard nothing. I pictured Ry wandering around outside close to the road. I couldn't sleep until I checked on them. I drug myself out of bed and walked to the den. Mom was asleep on the couch and Ry was quietly beside her (she was dozing, not sound asleep). "Good!" I thought. But then Ry saw me. He followed me back to bed, and we started all over again. I tried to simply ignore him. He poked my head, pulled my hair, raised my eyelids. At one point, he twisted my head towards him, and I thought was going to kiss me. Instead he licked me all down my face...I could have done without that. Mom was trying to get him to come back to the den or to go in his room to take a nap. Not a chance. Again, he tired of messing with me and left. "Finally!" I thought. It was at about this precise moment that Sawyer cried out in the monitor. I sat up as Ryder ran down the hall trailing my mom to check on him. He caught me looking and popped his head back into my room.

"Mommy? You waking up from you nap to play with me?" "Yep," I replied. "My nap is over." After all, mommies don't get naps.

(It should be noted that at this point, Shaun graciously took Ry outside to play so I could have a minute. But by this time, I was no longer sleepy)

So, do you get to take naps?