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Hubby and I have always tried very hard to not compare our children to each other. It’s been kind of easy with G and Little Missy--one boy, one girl--and before they were in school it was easy not to say “Well, your brother got good grades in her class so you should, too?” I think mostly it’s just been the PLAN to not compare their accomplishments to the other’s at a future date.
But comparisons happen in your mind without realizing it. I mean, at the doctor’s office we compare our child’s height and weight to the national average, and we compare our child’s cognitive development to that of other children to gain some idea of whether or not we need to work on something with them, be it potty training or speech or keeping their voice down in public. Comparison is not always a bad thing.
G was always a very good artist. That is mostly a proud mama speaking, I know, but some of the stuff he drew just blew us away. One day on the porch he outlined the top of an airplane with his sidewalk chalk and it was AMAZING. No better than I could have done in that amount of time and the kid was only three at the time. We have a picture hanging on our dining room wall that G colored right after his third birthday of a “cowboy,” as he named it, with a hat and arms and legs and hands and feet. It was full of details we’d never pointed out to him but that he picked up on his own.
We kind of felt that art was not Little Missy’s strong suit until one day we realized she is two years younger than he is. You can know something in your head and forget it in the day-to-day stuff when she is nearly as tall as her brother and her language is just as coherent.
Her artistic abilities continue to flourish because that precious girl loves to color. In the car she wants to color as we drive to Wichita; in the afternoon she colors at the dining table as G and I work on his homework; in the morning before school she breaks out her art supplies before we head out the door.
Every week she proudly brings me a piece of art that astounds me. Her latest thing is mermaids, and she draws them with hips bigger than their shoulders. How has she already grasped such a fine detail?
Without crossing the line from seeing their strong suits to pigeon-holing them, it appears that Little Missy is our artist and G is our mathematician. I’m proud of almost anything they’re doing as long as they’re striving to do it well, because having the blessing of being their mama and watching their brains grow and figure out new things is just fascinating.
Erin Fox is a weekly columnist for the Augusta Gazette and a busy mother and wife. Her popular blog - erin’s little corner of the world - is at http://erinslittlecorner.com.
Hubby and I have always tried very hard to not compare our children to each other. It’s been kind of easy with G and Little Missy--one boy, one girl--and before they were in school it was easy not to say “Well, your brother got good grades in her class so you should, too?” I think mostly it’s just been the PLAN to not compare their accomplishments to the other’s at a future date.
But comparisons happen in your mind without realizing it. I mean, at the doctor’s office we compare our child’s height and weight to the national average, and we compare our child’s cognitive development to that of other children to gain some idea of whether or not we need to work on something with them, be it potty training or speech or keeping their voice down in public. Comparison is not always a bad thing.
G was always a very good artist. That is mostly a proud mama speaking, I know, but some of the stuff he drew just blew us away. One day on the porch he outlined the top of an airplane with his sidewalk chalk and it was AMAZING. No better than I could have done in that amount of time and the kid was only three at the time. We have a picture hanging on our dining room wall that G colored right after his third birthday of a “cowboy,” as he named it, with a hat and arms and legs and hands and feet. It was full of details we’d never pointed out to him but that he picked up on his own.
We kind of felt that art was not Little Missy’s strong suit until one day we realized she is two years younger than he is. You can know something in your head and forget it in the day-to-day stuff when she is nearly as tall as her brother and her language is just as coherent.
Her artistic abilities continue to flourish because that precious girl loves to color. In the car she wants to color as we drive to Wichita; in the afternoon she colors at the dining table as G and I work on his homework; in the morning before school she breaks out her art supplies before we head out the door.
Every week she proudly brings me a piece of art that astounds me. Her latest thing is mermaids, and she draws them with hips bigger than their shoulders. How has she already grasped such a fine detail?
Without crossing the line from seeing their strong suits to pigeon-holing them, it appears that Little Missy is our artist and G is our mathematician. I’m proud of almost anything they’re doing as long as they’re striving to do it well, because having the blessing of being their mama and watching their brains grow and figure out new things is just fascinating.
Erin Fox is a weekly columnist for the Augusta Gazette and a busy mother and wife. Her popular blog - erin’s little corner of the world - is at http://erinslittlecorner.com.
