The kids are growing up…
The One Who Knows Everything still does and if he could just convince his teachers that he knows everything…everything would be perfect in his world. It’s nice being able to reason with him a bit more these days, and we’re carefully embarking upon the beginnings of the teenage years.
The One Who Doesn’t Say Much…well, she needs a name change around here, because that little thing has come completely out of her shell, and while she is still our most level headed, even keeled child…she’s definitely not speechless anymore.
And last, but not least…The One Who Gets Away With Murder…yeah, he’s still the spoiled baby of the bunch with the most tender heart, and we’ve learned to celebrate the little (or not so in this case) victories with this child. We’re just happy that we haven’t lost or broken him in his eight short years with us!
It’s so amazing to me how different they are from one another. We’re learning as parents of older (than babies) children to respect their differences, and parent them differently accordingly.
I was discussing this with an older couple we’re friends with (childless, I should add), recently, commenting just how differently I have to parent each of our children, and how tough it is, sometimes, to be different parents (the parents they need) to each of them.
His childless self, with his grand, romantic, bulletproof ideas of parenthood said, “What?!? That’s awful that you treat them differently. You should be the same parent to each of them. That’s going to be tough for them.”
Not faulting him for his ignorance and inexperience on this particular subject, I replied, “No, I can’t talk to Jack the way I talk to Avery…he would crumble and cry. I can’t treat Avery like I treat Lily…he would take the inch and go ten miles. I can’t treat Lily the way I treat Jack because she needs so much more emotionally than he does and so much less, physically. I treat them individually, based on their needs. If they’re worse for that, then sobeit, we will just have to see.”
I used to stress so much more about how they were going to turn out…now, surprisingly, my husband does all that worrying. I’m fine to sit back, roll the dice with them, see what happens, as long as everyone is happy and healthy at the end of the day…then, by God, let’s just have a good time.
And I just hope that I don’t have to change their names to “The One Who Thought He Knew Everything, Pissed of the Wrong Person, and was Beaten Mercilessly,” “The One Who Wouldn’t Shut Up, So Now She’s the Lonely Weird Cat Lady Who Lives Down the Street and Talks to Herself,” and “The One Who Actually Did Get Away With Murder, is Now on the Lam, Missing from Our Holiday Gatherings.”
Meh…if I do have to change their names to those above…I just hope they’re happy!