ZOMG, you guys. There’s a bit of controversy brewing over at the parenting website Babble, after a mother blogger named Kate confessed that she loved her 3-year-old daughter less than her 20-month-old son. Something about how one is nicer to her and the other one’s got a bad attitude.
In the comments, people warned the blogger to prepare for her daughter to hate her son forever and even went as far as to accuse her of wanting her daughter to be dead.
Jezebel picked it up and wrote some things about it, which is how I found out about the original post, as well as the response by someone named John Cave Osborne, who gives 5 reasons why he would never publicly compare his children.
And now, most explosively, I have some very serious and important opinions about it.
Of course, you should know that I haven’t read Kate’s entire post, mainly because it’s long and I feel like I got the gist of it from the headline. But I’ve never let not reading something prevent me from writing about it.
So is it okay to compare your children? Absolutely. Do I love my son more than my daughter? You better believe it. First of all, my son is a little miracle. That goes without saying and it goes with saying, which is why I say it all the time. My daughter? Well, she’s a basketball. I call her Sally. She is very round and beautiful, but she’s not a little miracle. I mean, what kind of monster would I be if I loved Sally, my daughter that’s not human, as much as my son, who is?
Now, I don’t love Sally the least. I do happen to love her more than my other son, Joey, who is a wok. I recently learned how to make egg foo young and he’s been super throughout the whole process. But he’s not that much fun to play with. Also, like Sally, he’s not a human being, so I don’t love him as much as my actual baby human son.
This is my son, Joey, who I love less than my other son and my daughter.
I know a lot of this is going to sound crazy and mean, but it just feels so good to get it off my chest and onto the Internet. And if there’s just one father out there who feels the same way, it’ll be worth it.
As for this Osborne fellow, I have carefully constructed an intricate rebuttal to each of his 5 reasons he’d never do what I just did:
1. “It’s not about me”
That’s absurd. They’re my children. This is my blog. I’m the one saying the thrilling, controversial things. Am I missing something here?
2. “Snapshots Don’t Tell the Entire Story”
I don’t know what this means and I’m not reading that long paragraph to find out.
3. “Other, Less Damaging Ways to Express Such Thoughts”
Look, what I have to say at any given moment of the day is extraordinarily important to me – and everyone else. And if what I have to say happens to be exciting or offensive or groundbreaking, well, that’s for society to deal with.
4. “The Sibling Relationships”
I know he’s too young right now, but my little miracle baby will eventually play with his sister, the basketball, and his brother, the wok. And I just can’t see them not getting along. Even when my human son eventually reads this blog post and realizes that I compared him with his siblings, I’m absolutely positive he’ll look at his sister and brother and think, “That’s fair enough.” Case closed? I think so.
5. “Do Unto Others”
Again, I don’t know what this means and I refuse to read what comes after it. At the end of the day, the real lesson in all of this is not to post a story with bold words in it – or to post a story with ONLY bold words – because I only read bold words.
So is it weird that I refer to my basketball as my daughter and to my wok as my son? Maybe. And one day, if I have another human being son or daughter, will I compare him or her to my current little miracle? Of course not.
Unless they play the same sport.