My husband and I attended a very swanky affair last night. Lovely people sipping on fancy drinks and eating nibble foods, all present for the same purpose… a pooch party. Our wonderful next door neighbors hosted the party, complete with pooch goody swag bags, and Bert had a field day.  As the youngest dog, nine months, and the largest, a labradoodle, she brought the party to the older dogs.

She pranced down the stone steps and instantly coerced the older dogs into chasing her. She meticulously swirled the yard as the herd gave pursuit.  Ceaselessly,  she forced the sprint around and around; they flew in between legs and back into the lush grass, her blonde hair windswept allowing everyone to see her eyes for a change. One by one, the older dogs threw in the towel and as they did, she would approach them, nuzzle their muzzle, and off she ran.

Watching the dancing foray, she whittled her followers down to one continuous, energy matching foe, Finnegan. A interesting male Chihuahua-Dachshund mix. They bounded together as the others barked, returned to the chase, and left to rest again.  Of all the dogs present, Finnegan would have been the last I would have chosen as her new favorite pal.

With a silent, musing giggle into my drink, I was approached by my hostess friend, and she broached an inevitable but esoteric question, I know all parents have one. So spill it! Who is your favorite kid?

Perhaps it was the energy of the dogs, perhaps the strength of my drink, but I answered.

Honestly.

Me: Well. Wheels. Wheels is my favorite.  He is turning eight in July and you can talk to him. Reeeally talk to him, and the questions he asks are incredibly profound. He challenges me to be honest with myself and give honest answers.  Watching his mind grow and change is amazing. Yeah, Wheels is my favorite… today.

Tomorrow, Malcolm may be.  You know he is five and just starting to read.  He is just discovering this world around him and is excited. He is turning into a kid, with his own ideas and talent apart from Wheels. He has a wicked sense of humor and his desire to learn is contagious. 

Her: Hmm… and what about Stewie?

Me: Oh, well, Stewie is an asshole!  We are all in trouble! But you know what, yesterday. Yesterday, Stewie was my favorite. He has resisted and resisted talking and engaging with David and I.  And yesterday, for the first time, he tried and succeeded in saying boat, cookie, jeep, and night night.  He actually watched my mouth, thought about it, and repeated.  But his pride in himself after, just clapping and clapping… Yeah, yesterday he was my favorite.

The conversation ended as quickly as the question posed, with dogs slamming into our legs.  My gaze followed Bert arching back through the lawn, with Finnegan, McKenna trailing behind and Ginny barking from the steps.

With a dog swirled mind, I felt satisfied. Yes, I love all my sons as equally as I can.  No, none of us are without flaws. Yes, there will be days where I like one more than the other, but being present and seeing the beauty in each, is my true mission as mom.

And yes, that leaves me satisfied.