Wife Loves Son More Than Husband

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I Love My Daughter More Than My Husband — And He Knows It
I Love My Daughter More Than My Husband — And He Knows It
When your 3-year-old climbs onto your lap and asks, "Do you love me the best, Mama?" what do you say? "Well, yes, but not as much as I love your Daddy"? I don't think so.
And yet, when I got pregnant, I received some not-so-gentle advice from the older women in my life: "You're going to love this baby more than life itself. Just don't tell your husband," said one. "You don't want to neglect your husband, dear. Let him know he's still the most important person in your world," said another.
But I didn't take their arguably sage marriage advice. And why?
Since the 1980s, at least two-dozen studies have posited the idea that the quality of a marriage drops once the couple has kids. These studies say that marital dissatisfaction comes from parents' loss of freedom and their childless status quo.
And when kids leave the nest, studies show that parents are happier than any other time in their relationship. Although they miss their kids, they revel in their new freedoms and revisit old marital activities, sometimes ones they haven't experienced since before the first child was born.
All this should have terrified my husband and I when we started The Talk (the one about trying for a baby). After all, I'd heard for years that kids and parenting could break a marriage.
But instead, my husband and I talked about money. My biggest worry was that the mounting cost of diapers would revive our old checkbook quarrels, so we agreed not to fight about spending on the baby.
Research shows that parents who plan ahead avoid the relationship-ruining discord the old studies talk about.
A study by professors at the University of California at Berkeley found a flaw in the bulk of the "kids ruin marriage" studies: they didn't take into account parental mindset before baby made three. Parents who disagreed about making a baby, parents who were complacent about the process, and parents who never had the chance to plan (the so-called "oops" pregnancy) were much more likely to struggle post-birth.
Professors Philip and Carolyn Cowan report that parents who walk in with their eyes wide open and all their wits about them are in for a pleasant surprise: Planning parenthood actually makes for happier parents.
When I gave birth to my daughter, we weren't looking to fix our marriage with a baby. We weren't on two different pages — one of us baby-hungry and the other just going along for the ride. We (yes, both of us) wanted to be parents, which left us both open to falling in love; this time that all-consuming love you have for your child.
And while we loved (and still love) each other, when we looked at the little bundle placed in my arms in the delivery room, we were both hopelessly, totally gone. We love each other as two best friends who have shared passion and triumph. We found our other halves, and we are fulfilled.
And we love our daughter, too. Fiercely. And in ways that we can't love each other. It's partly because we created her, although I firmly believe that parents who adopt have as strong a claim to the love of a child as we do. It's also because we chose her. We actively made a decision to become parents.
Since our daughter was born, love is Saturday mornings when I stay in bed while he gets up to turn on cartoons and pour cereal in bowls; it's the Sunday mornings I let him doze while I cuddle on the couch with our toddler and a pile of books. It's a kiss and a hug on the way out the door to work, followed by a high-five, as directed by the 3-year-old who gets the same routine. And I love him all the more for letting her play cruise director.
My husband and I became parents because we want to give everything we have to our daughter, and the reward will be watching her walk down a graduation aisle, get married, have children of her own. When she makes a mistake or lets us down, it doesn't decrease the love, it makes us work harder.
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But perhaps the biggest difference lies as much in the past as it does in the future.
With a child, you will always be her parent. Without me, there is no her. With a spouse, there is still that life before you met, the period of time when you were two distinct people. I am still me without my husband. Our daughter isn't.
Together we fell in love and made a child. Together, we fell in love with that child. As my husband says, "it's just a different kind of love completely." He calls how he feels about our daughter a complete attachment, a bond that he never saw coming and yet can't imagine being without.
He picked me (well, he asked me out!), he dated me, and he slowly fell in love with me, but he loved our daughter from the second she came screeching into the world.
So when my 3-year-old works her way into my lap and asks, "Do you love me the best Mama?" I wrap my arms around her and reassure her, "Yup, Mommy loves you more than anything else in the whole wide world."
Because I do. And her Daddy is okay with that, because he does, too.
Jeanne Sager is a contributing author to Babble and Droolicious, and contributing editor of Grand Magazine. She shares her New York State Press Association first-place winning columns on her blog Inside Out, where she writes about being a mother and the parenting.
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We're happy to present this article by Amber Doty from one of our favorite sites, YourTango.
Less than one month after my husband and I got married — before I even mailed thank you notes for our wedding gifts — I found myself holding a positive pregnancy test.
Eight and a half months into our marriage, while we were still getting comfortable in our roles as husband and wife, we suddenly became mom and dad. I won't say that our son was poorly planned—we were both anxious to start our family—but I will say that in hindsight becoming a mother in the same year that you become a wife is not for the weak.
The first year of our son's life was the most difficult of our marriage to date and it is also the year I learned a very important lesson: My husband must always come before our children.
Don't get me wrong; I love my kids and would do anything for them. But I love my husband more.
When I share this with my mom friends, it's usually met with outrage and total shock. After all, this goes against the golden rule of motherhood, the one that tells us being a good parent means sacrificing all for the happiness and well-being of our children.
Putting aside our own needs for theirs is practically a requirement but I'm sorry, I'm just not buying it.
But, to some, the concept that kids would ever come second seems ludicrous. In a survey conducted by YourTango, half of the experts polled believe that wives should prioritize their husband over their kids. As you can imagine, the commenters were less than enthused.
And I get it. There's no question that the bond between a mother and child is unbreakable. But I view my investment in my relationship with my spouse as one that is beneficial to our family as a whole. Prioritizing my husband's needs decreases our chances of getting divorced; it also increases the probability that our children will remain in a two-parent home.
I strongly believe that modeling a healthy relationship for our children sets the foundation for how they form bonds when they get older. In my opinion, my husband and I are the first example of what being in a happy marriage is like. Our kids learn how they should treat their future significant others (and what they should expect in return) by watching us.
I think that raising them in a home with parents who clearly love and value one another is key to their growth. For me, this means putting my husband first.
With very few exceptions, you will not find our kids in our bed at night. If we can only afford to take one vacation a year, we take it alone, and I feel no guilt about soliciting the help of family so that we can have a date night where we talk about anything but our children.
In a few years, our son and daughter will leave our home and when they do, I want to celebrate a job well done with my lover—not sit in a quiet house with a person who has become a stranger as a result of years of quietly drifting apart.

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