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Nov 1 2013

Torah MOMentary: Even Esteemed Matriarchs Play Favorites

By at 10:17 am

sibling rivalry jacob and esau parashat toldot

This post is part of our new Torah commentary series. This week we read Parashat Toldot. To read a summary of the portion and learn more, click here.

Maybe you’ve been feeling a little guilty about your parenting lately; you shouldn’t. There is no one perfect way to be a mom, and you’re doing your best with the resources you have. (Remember, #YouAreAGoodMama.)

Still, it’s so easy to feel insecure sometimes–especially when you constantly see other mothers who seem to have it all together, all the time: they take to breastfeeding with the greatest of ease, they throw birthday parties that are Pinterest boards come to life, and they look damn good doing it in their little black dresses two months after giving birth. Meanwhile, you’re desperately tossing back Fenugreek like M&Ms for just a minute increase in your milk supply. Your nipples look like Mike Tyson’s face (or Evander Holyfield’s ear) after a brutal round in the ring; your parties are fly-by-night operations with whatever was left over at Amazing Savings; your fashion style is more worn beatnik than city slick. Read the rest of this entry →

Jun 13 2013

When Your Child Prefers His Father Over You

By at 4:18 pm

tova ross fathers dayIt’s one of the first rules of parenting: don’t play favorites. And I don’t, really, even on those days when my daughter’s initially polite gurgles turn into screaming demands for a bottle at 5 a.m. and my son strolls downstairs closer to 9, well after I’ve had my coffee and am a cheerful–well, functioning–human being.

But when it comes to my son playing favorites (my daughter is still a baby, and thus still unversed in the art of emotional manipulation), it’s hard not to be delighted when I am clearly the preferred parent. There were always certain things–breakfast, shopping trips, snuggling, and especially bedtime stories–that were entirely my domain. And I liked it that way. Our home was Mommyland and I was the queen, minus the Corgis and inflated salary. It wasn’t so much being picked over my husband, really, that gave me a rush, but being so utterly adored and needed and the only one who could kiss a skinned knee, clean and bandage it, and make it all better.

Few of us can deny loving being needed, and fewer can deny the exceptional high that comes from being so unabashedly admired. Read the rest of this entry →

Nov 11 2010

Oh!? Grandparents Do Have Favorites

By at 1:24 pm

The family diamond ring is going to the first born granddaughter.

I was the favorite. Really.

To my Nana, I was her “princess.” To my Grandma, I was the “tip of her heart.”

At the beginning, it had nothing (much) to do with my curly blond hair and good disposition. It was because I was the first. On both sides. The long, eagerly awaited grandchild. And a girl–a girly girl–dolls and dresses, jump ropes and jacks.

I don’t know a single boomer grandmother who doesn’t kvell over her grandchildren. But if we’re honest, we admit, if only to ourselves, that we love them equally (the same amount) but differently.

I think it has to do with several things. The birth order advantage holds for a while. Then, our relationships depend on how much we see and care for the babies. Maybe it is influenced by our relationship with our child, our grandchild’s parent. Or if we are the maternal or paternal grandmother. Or if we feel like the “other grandmother.” Later it will also depend on how much time we spend with them, their dispositions, interests and, to be truthful, how they respond to us.

I was thinking about this the other day. I was waiting at the bus stop for my first-born grandchildren who, until three months ago lived up the block from me and who I saw and babysat at least twice a week since their birth. Sam got off with a big smile and ran over with a hug and kiss. His twin Jacob barely looked up and went off with a friend. Yes, part of it is manners. But the truth is that, even at the age of 6 and a half, Sam and I are closer. His personality and preferences mesh better with mine. Jacob is a “guy’s guy,” obsessed with sports, a topic I know nothing, and care even less, about. Of course, I pretend to care when we talk about it, but kids are smart.

I lived around the corner from both sets of grandparents. My Nana died when I was 9 and when I became an adult, I found out that she had left me her large, very valuable diamond ring. That gift, I believe, was a reflection of the advantage of my birth order. God didn’t give her the time to really get to know me. On the other hand, I had my grandma until I was 53 and already a grandmother myself.  She painted and sculpted and used to take me and my sister to museums from a very early age. I loved art and drawing. My sister wasn’t interested. Grandma and I both loved to read. We were able to talk about anything and everything. Our personalities and preferences coincided.

I remained the “tip of her heart” until her death at the age of nearly 100 because of the relationship we developed based on who we were as human beings.

Last year, after three grandsons, I was blessed with my first granddaughter, my beautiful, blue-eyed Emme. I go out to New Jersey to babysit for her once a week but who knows how our relationship will develop? Who knows who and what she’ll be? Will we play Barbie and pick-up sticks? Will she love Charlotte’s Web and Nancy Drew? Will she always run to me with a smile and a hug?

Her personality and interests will develop and I pray that I will live a long enough life to see her grow into womanhood, motherhood and, if I am very lucky like Grandma, into grandmother-hood. I will love her, and her siblings and cousins, no matter what.

But she’s my first granddaughter.

I just re-did my will. Emme gets the diamond.


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