I Love That My Son Loves Me Best

My husband and I have two children, an (almost) 11-year-old daughter and an 8-year-old son. We frequently comment how crazy it is that two children who come from the same parents, with the same upbringing, can be so incredibly different. I’m sure a lot of you know what I’m talking about and have experienced that with your own kids too! It’s fun– although sometimes quite baffling– to watch.

One of the things we’ve noticed is that our children express their love differently. My daughter doesn’t have a favorite “person”– a preferred parent or family member. Even as a middle schooler, she doesn’t have that “one” BFF that she just has to always be with to survive. Instead, my daughter sort of collects people. So in terms of family, my daughter has always– from infancy through the tween years– preferred my husband and me equally. She may show love for each of us in different ways, but it’s always been both of us.

Not so with my son. From the moment he arrived on this Earth, that boy has only had eyes for his mama. When it began, we all supposed it was just the “little boys love their mommies” phase. He clung to me, was on my hip all the time, and only wanted me to provide the life-sustaining necessities. But as the years have passed, and he is now an 8-year-old second grader, our relationship has grown stronger and deeper.

My sweet son initiates conversations with me every day. He asks how I am, how my day was, and tells me I look nice. He uses vocabulary well-advanced for his age. It’s amazing to hear what comes out of his mouth. If I leave the house early for work or my husband drives him to a morning swim practice, when we reconnect later, my son will run up to me and say “Mommy! I don’t believe we have hugged yet today!” and he’ll bear hug me right then and there.

We cuddle in his bed nearly every night. This tradition started a few years back when my son had trouble falling asleep in his big bed and was having night terrors. I would stay a couple extra minutes after reading stories. Now, it’s simply what we do. I’m a sucker, I know, but I wouldn’t trade this precious time for the world. Of course, I often fall asleep in there, and my husband has to come in and wake me up. Sorry, babe!

When my son is upset– angry, anxious, confused, acting out– I am the one who connects with him and calms him the quickest. He hears me and can focus.

My son sits with me on every ride, next to me when we are eating out, and also on the couch. Even though he’s really outgrown the hand-holding phase, once in a while he’ll still do that too when we’re out running errands, of his own accord.

All of this, despite the fact that my son is still your stereotypical 8 year old: he is a Nerf gun expert, Star Wars fanatic, amateur football statistician, World Cup watcher, thinks fart jokes are funny, and giggles hysterically every time someone says the word “balls.” In other words, he is ALL boy these days. I only have a sister, and of course my daughter came first, so sometimes, I have no idea what to do with this kid!

So here comes my mommy confessional– the fact that my son loves me best is my guilty pleasure, except I don’t feel guilty at all. Sorry, not sorry.

This relationship isn’t about anybody else. My daughter. Or my husband. Or what the world thinks. It’s about us– our growing bond of affection and connection. And I just happen to be my son’s favorite person in the world, by a long shot. I don’t see it changing anytime soon. Some day it will. As it should. In the meantime, I’m soaking up every glorious second.

Any other mamas out there have a relationship like this with their son?
Or daughter?