My sister and I always accused our parents of loving Nancy more than they loved us. She got away with more stuff, had more privileges and was generally spoiled. Of course, as an adult with children of my own I realize that they probably didn’t love Nancy more just differently.

When I was born my parents were very young. Young parents always have a different set of criteria for their children–stricter rules, more concerns, etc. By the time my middle sister was born my parents had mellowed out and somethings didn’t even apply to the second child. Seriously, being the oldest wasn’t all it was cracked up to be! Fifteen years after their first child (me) they had Nancy. Mellow wasn’t even a word. It was more like ahhh we have a cute doll to play with and dress up.

I vowed to myself that my children wouldn’t feel that way. Ha Ha. My daughter frequently tells me that I love her brother more and I let him get away with more stuff. She insisted he had a better curfew and more priviledges. The list is endless. In spite of my assurances to the contrary, she never believes me or else she is great at playing me!

My daughter is a beautiful girl. Someday she will have a family of her own and realize that parents really don’t love one child more than another–just differently.

Maybe, just today, I’ll go home and hold her down and kiss her all over her face like I used to do when she was little….