![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Ananda was my firstborn, and for awhile it was just the two of us in day to day life. She made me a mother, turned my whole life upside down, and she is more like me than any of my other kids. I spend the most money on her, BY FAR, on a regular basis - be it in driving her to social events and getting her ridiculous shirts from Hot Topic, humoring her penchant for gourmet cheese and coffee, or finding a way to get her own cello and wanting her to have a good phone for texting. Her birthday and Christmas present amounts regularly triple the dollar amounts of the other kids, though the gift quantity is often similar. I recognize that her love language is "quality time," and try to make sure I give it to her. I also make a lot of "oldest" exceptions for her (although they're balanced with "oldest" responsibilities), like staying up latest watching a movie just she and I. She's always been complex, and obviously had an intense internal life, and I've always went out of my way to respect that, through everything from therapy to privacy to copious unending research on and support for her various issues (ongoing - dyslexia; recovered - selective mutism; once upon a time - impending menstruation). People around us like to give her a lot of sympathy for having a lot of younger siblings, as though it's a hardship. People online say she's beautiful, which is true but also the least of her. All of the other kids think that she is my favorite.
I get along with Aaron best out of all of them, when it's just the two of us - our personalities are very compatible, and it's "easy," to hang out with him. When we are a family, though, he is BY FAR the most frustrating, and I lose my temper on him with a frequency and vengeance none of the others experience. I continue to harbor some soul-crushing guilt, for things that happened with him and other people, early in his life. Aaron has the most challenges in everyday living, and the most "interesting" and showy talents, as well. He's also the most drop dead gorgeous, and the most full of himself. I have to search for ways to try to be positive with him to balance the lectures and scolding on a regular basis, as well as to encourage him in his strengths - especially since he is the most sensitive and intuitive, and really is just gutted by criticism and anger. I tend to bend heaven and earth if there's something he's fixated on that I think will really benefit him - and then he ends up in New York City, riding his unicycle, or with a cockatoo and a drum set in his bedroom. Relatives rarely know what to make of Aaron. Most people on the internet misinterpret SPD symptoms as meaning he's a jerk - and/or assume I'm exaggerating his positive traits. They also think it's obvious he's my favorite.
I have always put in the most effort and time, with Isaac. From his impossible high needs infancy and into his difficult, destructive, and miserable toddlerhood, moving along through his troubled early childhood to his learning disabilities and stomach problems - it is always Isaac. Whether everyone else is parked in front of the tv as I pace with him, left at home with a sitter while I take him to an appointment, or waiting in a line to talk to me while I sit and help him with homework, it does not end. Pacing outside the OR for appendicitis, waiting for the sling for his humerus, having it out with Grant Sr that he can wear glittery shirts if he wants to and panicking because his croup moves up to 911 levels anytime he gets a little stressed...oh, my Isaac. I've also always taken the most pictures of him, and had the most pictures of him printed, because I am so enchanted with his vibrant and unique looks within our brood. Strangers gravitate toward Isaac and LJ readers pick him as the one to root for, as well as getting disgusted that I obviously don't like him. His counselors, teachers and doctors/specialists all tell me I need to be careful because I cannot always favor Isaac as I do and have been, since it isn't fair to the rest of the family.
Jake and I had a special bond from day 1. Laura talked jealously about how the two of us always seem to be "skipping through a field of daisies together." I have a very difficult time telling him no, about damn near anything, or enforcing negative consequences with him. He is the only baby I bonded closely with right at and after birth, and he was my easiest baby, too. He did everything the earliest, and has always been the biggest for his age. He was the first who looked anything like me, in my own eyes. I find endless pride in his glowing good health, huge appetite for healthy foods, crazy awesome afro hair, and amicable, independent nature. I video tape anything he asks me to, and just ask him for hugs throughout the day. He was the first to nurse until he was 4 years old, and the one I quote most often. One of the moles on my arm is "his mole," and he still messes with it as a comfort object sometimes, and we have a lot of oft-repeated phrases for us, like "we have a lot of love." Other people tend to not notice Jake much beyond his hair, and people online rarely mention much else about him, either. People in my real life who are close to us - like Laura, and Grant - always feel he is my favorite.
Elise and I went through absolute hell together. I worried about her as I have never worried about anything else in my entire life. I have gray hairs and probably ulcers, because of her, and I continue to analyze her growth, behavior, comprehension, speech, creativity, temperament and so forth far beyond what I ever have any of the others. There has also been soaring joy, rushes of relief, and still on a daily basis disbelief at how adorable her ATTITUDE is. I also feel like the two of us emerged from 2007 together as survivors, battered and scarred but doing alright. There are always people online and in PATH who approach me just to find out how Elise is doing :) It's her I constantly text pictures of to all the grand and great grandparents, and post pictures of on facebook, and it could be because of that - along with her being the youngest, and my girly girl, and "the miracle baby" - that all of our distant relatives are sure she's definitely my favorite (and theirs).
I get along with Aaron best out of all of them, when it's just the two of us - our personalities are very compatible, and it's "easy," to hang out with him. When we are a family, though, he is BY FAR the most frustrating, and I lose my temper on him with a frequency and vengeance none of the others experience. I continue to harbor some soul-crushing guilt, for things that happened with him and other people, early in his life. Aaron has the most challenges in everyday living, and the most "interesting" and showy talents, as well. He's also the most drop dead gorgeous, and the most full of himself. I have to search for ways to try to be positive with him to balance the lectures and scolding on a regular basis, as well as to encourage him in his strengths - especially since he is the most sensitive and intuitive, and really is just gutted by criticism and anger. I tend to bend heaven and earth if there's something he's fixated on that I think will really benefit him - and then he ends up in New York City, riding his unicycle, or with a cockatoo and a drum set in his bedroom. Relatives rarely know what to make of Aaron. Most people on the internet misinterpret SPD symptoms as meaning he's a jerk - and/or assume I'm exaggerating his positive traits. They also think it's obvious he's my favorite.
I have always put in the most effort and time, with Isaac. From his impossible high needs infancy and into his difficult, destructive, and miserable toddlerhood, moving along through his troubled early childhood to his learning disabilities and stomach problems - it is always Isaac. Whether everyone else is parked in front of the tv as I pace with him, left at home with a sitter while I take him to an appointment, or waiting in a line to talk to me while I sit and help him with homework, it does not end. Pacing outside the OR for appendicitis, waiting for the sling for his humerus, having it out with Grant Sr that he can wear glittery shirts if he wants to and panicking because his croup moves up to 911 levels anytime he gets a little stressed...oh, my Isaac. I've also always taken the most pictures of him, and had the most pictures of him printed, because I am so enchanted with his vibrant and unique looks within our brood. Strangers gravitate toward Isaac and LJ readers pick him as the one to root for, as well as getting disgusted that I obviously don't like him. His counselors, teachers and doctors/specialists all tell me I need to be careful because I cannot always favor Isaac as I do and have been, since it isn't fair to the rest of the family.
Jake and I had a special bond from day 1. Laura talked jealously about how the two of us always seem to be "skipping through a field of daisies together." I have a very difficult time telling him no, about damn near anything, or enforcing negative consequences with him. He is the only baby I bonded closely with right at and after birth, and he was my easiest baby, too. He did everything the earliest, and has always been the biggest for his age. He was the first who looked anything like me, in my own eyes. I find endless pride in his glowing good health, huge appetite for healthy foods, crazy awesome afro hair, and amicable, independent nature. I video tape anything he asks me to, and just ask him for hugs throughout the day. He was the first to nurse until he was 4 years old, and the one I quote most often. One of the moles on my arm is "his mole," and he still messes with it as a comfort object sometimes, and we have a lot of oft-repeated phrases for us, like "we have a lot of love." Other people tend to not notice Jake much beyond his hair, and people online rarely mention much else about him, either. People in my real life who are close to us - like Laura, and Grant - always feel he is my favorite.
Elise and I went through absolute hell together. I worried about her as I have never worried about anything else in my entire life. I have gray hairs and probably ulcers, because of her, and I continue to analyze her growth, behavior, comprehension, speech, creativity, temperament and so forth far beyond what I ever have any of the others. There has also been soaring joy, rushes of relief, and still on a daily basis disbelief at how adorable her ATTITUDE is. I also feel like the two of us emerged from 2007 together as survivors, battered and scarred but doing alright. There are always people online and in PATH who approach me just to find out how Elise is doing :) It's her I constantly text pictures of to all the grand and great grandparents, and post pictures of on facebook, and it could be because of that - along with her being the youngest, and my girly girl, and "the miracle baby" - that all of our distant relatives are sure she's definitely my favorite (and theirs).
