I think about this a bit. My oldest was born when I was sixteen and the pregnancy was unwanted and traumatic. He and I have been through what most people have not and we essentially grew up together. When he was very young, I felt like he was the embodiment of my guardian angel (hey, we all have to have a story to get through tough times). I was certainly the parent, we didn’t have the kind of relationship where we were “best friends” throughout his growing up. But he’s an adult now… and we kind of are best friends. My relationship with him is like no other. As a 22 year old, he calls me at least weekly and we talk for about an hour. About anything. He is one of my favorite people in the world.
My little ones were very much wanted and born from a loving marriage. My husband and I grew up essentially as only children (we had siblings with VERY large age gaps) and had no idea what life would be like with two little ones near the same age. It is a lot. Especially with being in a PhD program. Life is absolutely exhausting.
But there is something about each one that I find absolutely amazing. Whether it be personality, logic, interest, creativity, humor… Some times I have a “least-favorite” kid, but it doesn’t last long. Almost all of the time, they are each my favorite in VERY different ways. I work very hard to see the individuality and growth/change in each of them. Maybe that has something to do with my perspective. Maybe it’s my trauma and then deep longing to have a “normal” family. I don’t know. It’s not a flippant answer. They really all are my favorites. But my relationship with each is different.