Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Unfair and Biased!

After I put Alex on the bus to kindergarten yesterday, Emily and I hopped into the minivan and raced over to the school.  We were there to give him an encouraging wave as he entered the building, found his teacher, and sat among his classmates.  He was quiet and still, not chatting or crying, not fiddling around or getting up and switching seats.  He gave us a brave smile now and then, and my heart nearly broke in two when the teachers all led their classes away to their room.  Alex brought up the rear of his group, looking aimless yet tentatively stoic as he disappeared from me.  There it was.  My baby boy was gone to school.

I didn't drive to the school like that when Andy started kindergarten.  I didn't really think that parents were supposed to do that, and so when I put him on the bus that morning, Alex, baby Emily, and I went on with our morning as planned, and Andy started his on his own, sans encouraging wave from a loving face in the crowd.  Later, getting off the bus, he was quick to ask where I was.  "All the other moms were there," he said accusingly.  To which I replied, "Really?  My bad."

I try hard not to treat my children differently from each other, but it's exceedingly difficult not to.  In the grand scheme of things, I'm sure they understand that I love them each (about) the same.  I mean, if there's any differences in the quantity or quality of my love, the fluctuations are mostly minute to minute and tend to even out towards the end of the day, at least if you measure to the closest tenth decimal. But, yes, I did drive to school on Alex's first day of kindergarten when I didn't drive to school on Andy's first.  And, yesterday, when Alex and I were discussing the fact that I was there in those first few minutes, Andy was quick to pick up on it.

Alex, realizing at Kindergarten
meet and greet that shit was getting real.
"How come you didn't come see me today?"  he cried.  It hadn't even occurred to me to check in on Andy.  I mean, it would have been impossible due to the fact that I am only one person who cannot be in two buildings at once.  Also, who cares about a second grader's first day of school?  This is your third time doing this, buddy.  The novelty's worn off for all of us.

"I did come see you, though!" I was quick to lie.  Dishonesty- the answer to most of life's problems.  "But your class was too fast!  I got to your building, and you guys were already gone!  I was so bummed out."  I snapped my fingers in an aw-shucks kind of move in order to get my point across.

"Hmm.  Ok."  Andy was willing to accept this explanation, even though I saw a glimmer of distrust in his dark eyes.  "Can I have an extra cookie for dessert?  However many Alex has, plus one?"

I still carry Alex up the stairs at night, to bed.  He's a skinny little bag of bones, and he weighs next to nothing.  Honestly, Emily with her solid, tree trunk legs and chubby little belly sometimes feels heavier in my arms.  Alex is light, and he likes it when I carry him like a baby, which I do, kissing him on his cheeks on the way up the stairs.  He's still transitioning from babyhood, as far as I'm concerned.  I feel like it goes fast once they turn five.  So I soak moments like that up, perhaps a little too flamboyantly, as Andy has complained about having to walk up the stairs.  Obtuse mother that I am, I thought Andy's complaints were because he just didn't want to WALK to bed, to expend any of the energy.  Lazy bastard.  Then, last week, I tucked Andy in with a hug and a kiss, and he motioned for me to move in closer.  Like a secret, he whispered into my ears.  "Can I tell you something?  I don't like when you carry Alex up the stairs.  It makes me feel a little jealous."  And when I leaned back and looked at him, I saw it written on his face.  Hurt.  Envy.  A feeling of rejection.

"Oh Andy," I replied.  "Thank you for telling me that.  I didn't know.  Alex is younger and still small, so that's why I carry him.  Just like I did when you were five."  But the truth, as I was suddenly remembering, was that I didn't carry Andy like that when he was five.  Because I was carrying Alex that way, since he was only three.  In both of these scenarios, Emily was already fast asleep, having her earlier bedtime.  So during the times when it is just the two boys, it always reverts the same way, to Andy being Big Brother and Alex being Baby.

The next night, at bedtime, I grabbed Andy around the waist and scooped him up into my arms, kissing his face and carrying him up the stairs like a newborn baby.  I literally dislocated four of my vertebrae and almost fell down the stairs killing us both, but the look of surprised joy on Andy's sweet face made the subsequent $600 ER bill totally worth it.

Andy and I have our favorite TV shows that we like to watch together that Alex isn't interested in. I'm mostly thinking "Impractical Jokers" and "This Is Us," both of which I understand are super age-inappropriate.  There's a lot that Andy gets to do that Alex doesn't.  Of course, Alex will get most of those things too with age, and probably earlier too if we're all being honest.  And Emily, now that it's just her and me during the day- something that's new to both of us, since I've never been home in such extended hours with only ONE child- well, there's bound to be a whole lot of specialness there. So what's the answer with bouts of sibling rivalry or feeling unfairly treated?

I don't have an answer.  But I do hope that the occasional extra cookie will go far in smoothing over any residual hurt feelings.  If a little well-intentioned dishonesty solves a few problems, maybe emotional eating and/or an extra treat can solve a few other.


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