I have been thinking, and thinking about something since last night.  That darn Monika, had to go and post to her blog, and then it kept my wheels turning.  🙂  She wrote a very thoughtful, insightful post in response to something she saw on Facebook.  Go read it here.

The gist of it is that this gentleman, made a comment to the effect that adoptive parents tend to love their children more because typically there is loss of fertility, miscarriages, medical intervention, and extensive training/background checks prior to being chosen to be parents to child.

Now, I’m going off the subject a little.  I disagree that they are more loved.  As I have shared before, I was a very young mom to Mackenzie.  This did not change how loved she was by me.  Was I an inexperienced mother?  Yes.  Are most mother’s inexperienced the first time they become a mother?  Yes.  The thing is every child is loved by their parents differently.  Each one you have, if you are lucky enough to have more than one, is loved differently.  I am going to focus on the “different” aspect.

Now, as many of you know, I have a multitude of children.  (Five daughters, plus the one foster son totally counts as a multitude.)  I have been a Momma in all the ways that I have been, birth, marriage, foster and adoptive.  I love all of those kids.  ALL of them.

Where I do not love one more than the other I do love them all differently.

Our relationships are different.  Each of our children are different from one another.  They are not clones.

I am a different kind of mother to each of them.  There are times where my different mothering can be the same, particularly to the older girls now, and there are many things that are similar from when Mack was little to Mea’s age now.  But they are different kids, they need to be loved differently, they need to be spoken to differently, disciplined differently, taught differently, and so much more.  They are not the same people.

They are not robots.

If they were, this whole motherhood gig would be a piece of cake.

Just the same as I mother them all differently, I love them all a little differently too.  Not LESS, just differently.

Mack and I are incredibly close, and always have been.  It was just she and I for a very long time.  Now as she has been gone away to Yellow State City for the last two years, our relationship is changing again.  It’s hard road for me to swallow at times, but it is kind of exciting to see.  She is learning to be a grown-up.

The older girls and I have overcome a lot (um, hello understatement) over the years, and as they are all mother’s (or, about to be, I have mentioned that #3 is expecting haven’t I?) it is again, a different relationship.  They also have their other mothers, so that makes things different as well.

With my Mea, it is different too.  She is the first child that my husband and I have parented together.  That in and of itself is going to make the relationship different.  Not better, just different.  She is loved without a doubt.  But more than the other girls?  No, just differently then the other girls.  You cannot love a six-year-old, the same way that you love a twenty-nine year old.  It is just not possible.  Twenty-nine year olds aren’t exactly cuddly with their parents anymore.  Six year olds totally are.  Twenty something daughters do not need their parents as much as they once did, six-year-old daughters do.

Truthfully, if you think about it, it still has more to do with the fact that they are just different people.  They have different needs.  Some kids are more independent.  Some kids are more needy.  Some excel in everything they do.  Some need a giant push off of the cliff to get them moving.  Different.  It wouldn’t mean that you would love any of them any less.  Just differently.

The idea of loving Mea more than the other girls, just because she came to be our daughter by adoption annoys me to no end.  I think that it negates my relationship with her, and the relationship that I have with all of the big girls as well.  They are all my children, and they will be all of my life.

I know that my parents don’t love me more than they love my sister.  They love us differently.  Again, different people.  Different needs.  If one of us had been adopted would they have loved one of us more or less?  No.  Completely, 100% no.

Why in the world does love need to be a competition anyway?  Is there too much love?  Could that even possibly be such a thing when it comes to a child?  The more people who love on my kids the better.  So long as they aren’t pervy or weird it’s fine.  Those that just love Mack because she’s funky and artistic, and love Mea for how adorable she is, and for all the silly things she says, I say, the more the merrier.

There is never enough love.  If you are lucky enough to have a child to love, and for them to love you back, that should be all that matters.


3 Comments on “Different.”

  1. I so love when I post something that makes people think! 🙂 (Can’t help it.) Thanks for the link back, by the way. 🙂 I absolutely LOVE the last few sentences. 🙂 ❤

  2. Monika is always keeping me up at night with her thoughts. My husband has forbid me to read Twitter in the evenings thanks to her! 🙂 I really enjoyed this post, and having a 19- and 20-year-old and a 17-month-old, I can totally relate. I love all of them, but it’s different based on the people they are and what they need from me.

  3. Jen says:

    I love this post.

I like thoughtful comments!

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