Brothers, Sisters, and Favorites

Brothers, Sisters, and Favorites
By Janeal Mulaney
I come from a home where my parents wanted a large family. However it was not meant to be, my mother had several miscarriages, and a premature baby who didn't live for long after her birth. My father had to go buy a baby doll at the store so they would have clothes small enough just to bury my oldest sister in.
They finally got lucky the next child they had was full term and she is my other sister, and then one more time they got lucky and had me, almost three years later. Which is a story within its self. (Maybe at another time I will write about it.)
All through my childhood I heard how I was the favorite by my sister, and to tell the truth I always felt she was the favorite. We were as different as night and day, my sister was very feminine, she liked to cook, sew, and read. She was also great in school and a wonderful artist. She looked like mom and dad; never caused hardly any problems so she hardly got into any trouble.
I was all tomboy and didn't look like either of my parents, I never really applied myself in school, after all it took up eight hours of my day, when I could have been at home with the animals, climbing trees, working on my bikes, and getting my jeans all grease soaked. As I got older, I did the chores that were set for us as quickly as possible, so I could do what I wanted to do, I didn't want to spend any time at all in the house until the sun was down, or there was a blizzard outside. I bucked every rule my parents ever set, if I asked why I couldn't do something, and the only reason I was given was because they said so, then I did it anyway. That answer just wasn't a good enough reason for me not to do what I wanted.
I grew up grounded, spanked; and with more time outs then there were days in a year. I was literally my parents’ worse nightmare, and that was before I became a teen. Heck my heroes were Bonny and Clyde, which my friends and I played at being daily, in an old van my parents owned. (I still say that was the reason they sold it.) Ha, Ha!
As I grew up I helped my father in the shop, and on his jobs where he needed someone small to crawl in and out of tight places.
The one class I did start liking in school was art, but I was always compared to my sister, who according to my mother was so much better, so I soon started doing poorly in it too. What the heck I wasn't any good at it, so why bother wasting my time on it.
Still I was told I was the favorite, and I still couldn't figure out how my sister felt that way when I was never good enough, always in trouble, getting yelled at and compared to her. To make things even worse even the teachers in our small town would ask how I could be related to such a wonder student when my schoolwork sucked. That was when I truly became rebellious and mouthy to everyone.
I looked my teacher straight in the eyes, and asked. if she was truly an idiot, or if she had to work at it? Then I told her, you know my parents, both of them have black hear, dark eyes, and are over five feet seven, do I really look related to them. I'm adopted you twit.
I was just starting my first year at high school. My homeroom was called the principle office for the next three years. If I wasn't ditching classes, I was roaming the hallways this was how I spent my eight hours away from home. Some how I managed to graduate from school, personally I think the teachers got together and said, if we don't give that child higher then an F, we may never get rid of her so I made the D honor roll; what the heck, D is still the forth letter in the alphabet so I came in forth, right. Not bad if there is three hundred and some students, right!
That was along time ago now. Since then I have raised three of my own children, and now have four grandchildren. I've heard from each one of them how another one was my favorite, at one time or the other. My oldest and my youngest thought my middle child was the favorite, at one time, my oldest and the middle child thought I favored my youngest, at times. My middle and youngest thought my oldest was my favorite.
I can honestly say all three of them are my favorite.
How can I have three favorites?
Very easily, my oldest is a girl and she grew up a carbon copy of me. I know her inside and out. She is full of spirit and love; she is loyal to her family and friends, even though she has been let down by them at one time or the other. Sometimes she forgets while doing for some she lets others down, but her heart is always in the right spot. Sooner or later she will come back and be there for those that were neglected at an earlier time. So yes she is very much my favorite because I see myself in her every single day. I know she will have bad times, but she too will make it out on top because of her spirit, and the love she has for her own children and life.
My middle child is also my first son, who is about as far from my personality as anyone can be, he thinks everything through before he does anything, and his patience is so awesome. He has been my rock, my mentor, and my teacher, throughout my adult life. He is like the big brother I always wanted, but never had. He reminds me of the man I admire most which is my father, and he has the same easygoing attitude. He too has a heart that is filled with love and although he does not show it as often as the other two of my children do to just anyone, you can bet he shows it to his wife, the lovely woman who saw the stunning man he really is. He is excellent in everything he does. He has great morals and standards as well as takes great pride in himself and everything he accomplices. He is most definitely my favorite. He is who I always wanted to be.
My youngest is also my baby boy; he is a mixture of his grandfather, himself, and me. He is and will be one of the best men I know he has a heart of pure gold, but like me he lets his emotions rule and thinks later. He too reminds me of my father in different ways then my oldest son, he loves and cares deeply for his family and friends, he's not afraid to show his feelings for the ones he loves. I take pride in seeing him with his wife and baby girl every day. I know for them he will become the man he has always wanted to be. I see the same look in his own eyes that I still see in my own father's every time he looks at me. He's had hard times and good, but the thing that I admire most is no matter what happens he takes the blame for his own actions, wether they were right or they were wrong, he takes the fall then picks himself back up, and dust himself off. So yes he is very much my favorite.
So that is why I ask, are you the favorite? The answer to that is yes, in some way or for some reason you are your parents’ favorite, but then again you too will have to share that title with all your other siblings. For in some way they are just as special as you, and your parents love them unconditionally also.