There are many moments when I have no idea how I'm going to make it until their bedtime. The constant demands, the needs and the fighting are fingernails across the chalkboard every single day.

My sons take their seats, the motor kicks on and the swings start turning to the right in a soft, careful circle. It is their spotlight. It is as wide as a slow dance and twice as wild. Their hearts beat accordingly. They pass me by again and again. The only thing that changes is the calendar.

Does different treatment necessarily mean better or worse treatment? Do different interactions mean that one child is a favorite? And, god forbid, does different love inherently mean better love?

We found his brother mid-smile, with a ray of sunshine across his face and his hair a golden tussle. I held the moment as long as I could, willing the story to end on this page.

I watched the woman at the airport security checkpoint as she silently counted my three sons with her eyes. I knew the question was coming.

At some point down the road, there will be a girl they love more than me. Or maybe just differently. And over the next few years, my job as a parent is to shepherd them through that process, all the while with my heart tethered to theirs.

My love for my boys isn't "equal" in height, weight or circumference. The love I feel for my second is absolutely incomparable to the love I feel for my first. As if it's a different color, a different language, a different texture or a different tonality.

My brother, who is almost 30, has Down Syndrome. But before you start feeling bad for him, there are a few things that you should know.

Sibling relationships provide your child with their first lessons about how to handle the more difficult aspects of long-term, intimate relationships. Here are some ideas about how to help your kid get the most out of these lessons.

During the first week or so following the death of someone's child, we are pretty clear about how to help that parent. I am concerned, though, that in our culture, we are at a loss for how to help these parents once the first week or so has passed.

Mommy is so sorry. I didn't know that two babies would be so hard. I didn't think I'd treat you any differently than your brother. And I didn't realize how quickly life would pile up and try to steal our special moments from the two of us.

More than scrapbooks, more than baby books, my children are themselves memory keepers, especially of the details of each other's childhoods.

I never wanted a child. I always wanted children.

I have a twin... sort of. He's taller, blonder and better at math than me. He's also nine years my junior.

I'm going to write letters to my sons to be opened if and when they become parents.

My brother always seemed destined to become a father.

I share the eulogy I gave for my brother, Kevin, annually on this day to remind my son -- and all my children -- of a man who loved them dearly.