It didn’t actually sting when Levi told me that he loved Mommy more than he loved me. It’s not because he was in a fever induced delirium that I was able to disregard his mumblings as nonsensical. Truth is, I know what he means. Gabriella’s kind of mothering is easier to love than mine. I’m not fishing, mind you. I only engage in one kind of fishing and it doesn’t have to do with compliments or high-waders.
In our house, Gabriella is the nurturer, and I’m the mom who gets the job done. On school days, I literally drag the older boy out of bed, and he’s half-dressed before he is semi-conscious and can stand on his own feet and finish the job. I rush downstairs to make breakfast and prepare lunches. I hurry the boys along to finish their meals, growing impatient as I herd them out the door to get to the bus. After school, the focus of my job is schlepping to activities, feeding them dinner and monitoring homework. Homework is usually unpleasant at best. The 9 year-old loathes homework especially when homework is even the slightest bit challenging. His resistance to homework does not bring out the best in me, and there may be cross words exchanged by the time he’s finished.
By the end of the day after I’ve also done laundry and given the boys baths, I’ll admit that my flavor of motherhood tastes more like drill-sergeant than Mary Poppins. My kids need more than a spoonful of sugar to get my medicine to go down.
When Mommy comes home from work, the boys are ready for bed and need only a story and a hug before they see her again the morning. We co-parent on the weekends when our schedules are slightly less demanding, and there is little to no homework. Even so, if Gabriella were home during the week instead of me, I am certain that her operations style would not be as rigid or impatient as mine. She is naturally a more relaxed person. That’s why I married her. I needed that chilled-out Yin for my high-strung Yang.
Now, I tell you about our set up not to kvetch but to paint a picture – a picture Gabriella and I designed together and one that we choose to maintain. I like the way I manage our lives, but I know that I’m not always so warm and fuzzy.
Everyone expresses love in a unique way. Gabriella and I both cuddle and tickle and laugh and play and read with the boys, but there are plenty of differences I’m sure they recognize already. Gabriella shows love through food – cooking for and cooking with her children. I show love by helping our kids establish habits that will allow them to be independent one day. Gabriella shines when they need comforting. I shine when there is a crisis.
Yesterday, I took Levi to the local Care Station because our primary care doctor was off for the holidays. Gabriella was home with a cold, so it was understood that I would take Levi while she stayed at home with Asher. We waited together for a very long time while he nuzzled into my body too tired and weak to remain upright. He had been suffering a fever for days and had most recently broken out in a rash that turned his entire body a blotchy red. We waited for what seemed like hours though I’m sure it was probably no more than 30 minutes, but any amount of time was an eternity for Levi who just wanted to be in bed. When we finally saw the doctor, he diagnosed Levi with strep, armed us with a prescription and sent us on our way.
It had started snowing while we were waiting to see the doctor. It was a mess outside by the time we left. I slowly passed one car collision only to get stuck in standstill traffic at the top of a hill. “I CAN’T BRAID!” Levi screamed a few times before I realized he was telling me he couldn’t breathe. “Almost home,” I lied. We waited for a while I distracted Levi with details of a return trip to Disney World we had not planned to make any time soon.
We sat for 15 minutes without so much as an inch of movement. I chose to turn around and brave the unplowed side roads. Here is where I must insert a plug for the WAZE app. After contacting another WAZE user, I learned that cars had driven off the road ahead of us, so I used WAZE’s alternate route. The ride home was downhill treachery, but we managed to slowly make our way back. I spoke to Levi throughout our journey with soothing words of diversion and convinced us both that we were going to be just fine. Finally, I returned Levi to his bed only to head out again for his antibiotics.
When I got home with meds in hand, Gabriella was lying down with Levi in our bed. “Do you want me to lie down with you, too?” I asked. “No thanks, Mom,” he said. You can go because I just love Mommy more.” I had delivered him to his cuddly mommy, and my job here was done. I walked into the other room where Asher was watching television and sat next to him. “I love you, Asher.” “I love you more, Mom.” “Impossible,” I said.
We're collecting an extended family album over at
You get me every time, Deborah. Particularly because you uncover such tender true parts.
I think of how very very differently I love our two kids, and wonder if it isn’t the same: I love neither more nor less than the other, but each hugely differently. And hope they know they are each equally indispensable, each as deep and irrevocably inside my heart.
I’m sure that our children feel the same way about their parents though it might take them some time to be able to comprehend that difference as we do. In the meantime, the words come out as “I love you more,” but I know what is in their hearts. And no matter what their words today or tomorrow, I could never stop loving both of them “deeply and irrevocably.”
Ouch. And yet…
Interesting to read this. I find myself wondering how we’ll find that balance in our own family. I thought I’d be much as you describe your Gabriella, and yet I’m definitely less calm and cuddly than I expected.
It sounds like your kids get a nice balance of what they need. I only hope we can do the same for ours. (Even if it sometimes means feeling like they love one of us more than the other.)
I know that family balance will grow and shift and morph over time as their needs change and as they mature. Eventually, they will understand that though they might connect with one of us more than the other at times or all the time, we will always love them impossibly – as I’m sure you will with your own kids. Thank you, N.
This isn’t a pain felt only by lesbian families, but shared by any multi-parent home. Personally, both the husband and I are losing out to the dog who is The Most Loved.
Still ouch. It is hard to hear it and not feel like rejection. Logically, I know you are right. Love is different and it changes. But I want the center of my universe to thing I am all that too– plus it plays into so many rejection-issues/fears that I grapple with.
My heart goes out to you, Clare. How can anyone compete with the family dog? Much as I love dogs, I’m afraid you’ve just given me more ammunition for not getting one – fighting for affection AND the fact that I’m the one at home who will be minding the dog (in all senses of the word). Ah, but that’s the subject of another post, I’m sure.
To go back to your comment, I absolutely agree that this rejection is not exclusive to lesbian families. I’m afraid it’s a part of parenthood from “I love (insert other’s name) more” to “Leave me alone!” to “I hate you.” I haven’t received the “I hate you” one yet, but I’m assuming that will come in time. Parenthood transcends gender as I think we’ve all discussed here or elsewhere. What we all have in common is the ability to love unconditionally and boundlessly even when that love is not reciprocated – overtly anyway. It’s a bumpy ride, indeed, which is why it’s wonderful to have communities like this one where we can share and connect and support.
I have thought about this several times a day since I read it. Your acceptance of things as they are–it’s something to aspire to. Recently my oldest son suffered from a bout of sassiness, all directed at me and only me. This was new, unexpected, and, to be perfectly honest, an ego-bruising way to be reminded that the ego has no place in parenthood. I felt like he was firing a warning shot: the teen years could look like this, so learn to tap that deep well of unconditional love, no matter what you are or are not getting in return. Thanks for reinforcing that.
Frankly, I believe that when kids announce that they don’t love you as much, or hate you, or, in my adoptive-mom case, that I’m not the REAL mother, it’s a test to see if you will keep loving them after they’ve said these things. And if they didn’t believe you would, they wouldn’t dare test you.
So when mine say things like this I A) take it as a sign of their trust in me and our intimacy and B) yell back at them that it’s too bad they hate me, because they’re stuck with me loving them forever, ha!
Works like a charm to bring them back into a lovey mood, too. I think they are reassured and relieved.
And yes, it’s good practice for teendom.
I am the fun, nurturing mom and Luisa is the get shit done mom. Sometimes, it’s hard for me to see the dynamic play out. I like to remind the kids that some people love through acts of service – that’s Luisa all the way.
But what happens when you are the get stuff done mom AND the cuddly one? I am not a single mom, but am in the position of trying to help my wife find her footing in parenting. She needs to parent in her own style, which is not mine (a good thing, I think) so I am having a hard time “helping” her find her way. Any advice?
Difficult to provide helpful suggestions without understanding the details. (How does her struggle with style manifest itself? Has she asked for help?) I can offer assurance that as long as your kids feel safe and loved, you’re on the right track. I also believe that if you are both equally committed to finding your way to healthy, happy parenting, you will. Like any relationship, be it between friends, partners or parents & children, you’ve got to want to do the work. And all that stuff about villages, so true. If you haven’t already, consider reaching out to friends, family and/or practitioners (support groups, parenting coaches, therapists, etc.) to help you. Good luck!!