As our children grow up, it might be shocking to realize that, as a parent, you naturally relate most easily to one child in particular.
Growing up, I remember seeing this dynamic very plainly in a family that I knew.
The family had two sons. One had an artistic interest, and the other was into technical things, like machinery.
The father in the family had an artistic interest himself, and so eagerly nurtured the gifts and abilities of the more artistic child, while also fumbling in his (half hearted or misguided) attempts to engage with the technical child.
When the children became adults, the father expressed regret that he hadn’t connected more deeply with the technical child.
Your child might be into unicorns or ponies or compasses or vintage vinyl.
You might have no interest or know-how about any of it.
Jojo is 7, and right now he has a dream of being a Kidz Bop singer.
That isn’t my dream, nor is it the dream I would have selected for him, but he is into it. He loves it.
And I love him.
So I fake it.
I download the songs. I buy him the outfits he “needs” to perform in. I give him the toy microphones. I let him sing for hours (although sometimes I do request that he turn down the volume).
I sing Karaoke with him (Jojo and Mama Karaoke). And record him (at his request).
Do I love it? No.
But I’m just that into him.