I have a favourite child and if you were really honest with yourself as a parent, you would admit you have one too.

Having a favourite has nothing to do with love. I love all my children the same, never ending amount. My favourite child has nothing to do with how much I love them and everything to do with how much I like them.

I remember back to my own childhood during a particularly difficult rift between my preteen self and my mother. We had been fighting for days, months possibly, when she hit me with this jack-hammer.

“Melissa I will always love you, but right now I don’t like you very much.”

Checkmate.

Somehow as parents we think that we love our children so much we have to like them all the time too. Even when they are acting like complete jackasses in the grocery store, ripping apart our homes or keeping us up all night.

It’s ok if every stage isn’t your favourite and if every kid isn’t your favourite either.

For me, having a favourite child is a fluid thing. When my second child came along and I had a very demanding 16-month old. I found myself enjoying my sleepy newborn more than my tantrum-throwing, jealous toddler. Of course, there were also many days when I enjoyed the fact that my toddler wanted to run and play whereas my newborn wanted to cluster feed and refused to sleep.

Now that my girls are three, four and five my preferences often have to do more with what kind of day they are having, but of course, personality plays a large role.

My oldest daughter has the personality of a 25-year-old movie star. She is demanding, makes constant wardrobe changes and is very entertaining. She is really fun to be around. When the kids were younger, I would often find myself gravitating towards her because she was the most ‘grown-up’ and the one who I could take out and enjoy without having to bring a diaper bag or worry about nap time. She always has a very full social life and will always praise me anytime I attempt to clean myself up with a decent outfit or hairstyle. She also is willing to do my hair and make-up in exchange for stolen squirts of my perfume. Right now my absolute favourite thing to do with her is read aloud all my old childhood books. We are working our way up to The Babysitter’s Club and I am loving every minute.

It’s ok if every stage isn’t your favourite and if every kid isn’t your favourite either.

My middle daughter has lots of little quirks that can make her a challenge, but if you catch her on the right day, she will be the most loving child you have ever met. Hugs, snuggles, smoothing your hair and lots of kisses. She also is always good to do quiet activities such as blocks or art, so I get to have a cup of coffee in near silence during naptime. She is my only kid that loves going to the art and crafts store as much as me and I know once she is a little older we will be able to do more and more projects around the house together. Although similar in some ways, she is also my child that is the least like me as a kid, which really makes her stand out as special. She is not at all into dolls but loves wonder woman and superheroes. She likes to build with LEGO and is 100 times cooler than I was as a kid. I can’t wait to see who she will grow up to be.

My youngest daughter has always been small. She was my smallest baby by a pound and has been on the runty side ever since. Since she is also the baby of the family, she uses this to her advantage. At three years old, she has learned to milk her station in life. As a mother realizing she won’t ever have another baby, I have come to embrace it. Where I would have never carried my oldest at three, I will often pick up my little 25 lbs bundle as we make our way across a parking lot or upstairs for a nap. She is also a complete goofball, who loves to make funny faces and everyone laugh. She is also very easy going and easy to get along with which is a wonderful thing in a family of strong personalities. Everywhere she goes she makes a ton of friends with her sweet personality.

So although my love for my children is constant, my preferences tend to change daily, even hourly. Take today for example: after getting the three up and ready and walked to school I happen to notice a raging case of lice in my oldest daughter’s hair. My middle daughter has sensory issues, so even normal hair washing is a huge ordeal. Adding special shampoo and a very fine tooth comb proved to be a nightmare. My youngest saw this as the opportune time to run into the street naked, and had to be brought home by a neighbour as I was so up to my eyeballs in laundry and steam cleaning I didn’t even notice her slip out. So as I sit here, resisting the urge to scratch my olive oil soaked head, I do still have a favourite.

The dog.