Unearthed Essay #1

So, I was doing some very overdue cleaning and found some essays that I'd written about 3 years ago. Lee was around 9 months old or so, Alex was 3 1/2 and Abby was 5 1/2. I enjoy them, and I hope you do too...

Apples, Oranges and Bananas

It continues to amaze me just how diverse siblings can be. I marveled when my oldest nieces were little, and now that I have my own brood, I'm still struck by their differences. Yes, there are obvious gender differences, but it goes beyond that.

Abby is a thinker. She loves puzzles and word games, doesn't like physical play so much, and corrects me whenever I misspeak or the message gets garbled somehwere between my brain and mouth. Her sparkly red shoes from Halloween are now part of her everyday wardrobe and if she had her druthers, she'd wear 3 to 4 different outfits a day. Alex can kick and throw better than I can, getting him out of his caped Superman jammies is almost impossible and anything--and I do mean anything--is fair game to become a gun or a sword. I'm pretty certain that if I should allow him to peruse my feminine hygiene drawer he'd devise a sword and a shield in no time. Lee's still hard to tell, but so far I can tell he's an antsy boy. He just wants to get going. I can almost hear the dialogue in his head: "Ooh! The stairs gate is open! Here I go!" or "You know, Mom, I'm 5 1/2 in dog years, so I really am old enough to have my own steak and shrimp." Soon, he'll navigate us into the uncharted Sea of Lee and we'll swim in yet another beautiful, shimmery pool of unfamiliarity.

It's not like they have different parents. (Granted we're a lot less neurotic than when Abby was an infant, but everyone is allowed a fair share of paranoia with their first child.) We've learned and changed and grown, but all in all, we're still us. I'm sure that their unique characteristics are innate; they came with them, like a package deal where you can't substitute curly fries or leather seats or the ability to sleep through the night.

Come to think of it, some of these distinctions were manifest in various ways even before the children were born. My pregnancy with Abby was absolutely, 100% normal. By normal, of course, I mean the first trimester I missed every other day of work due to the constant nausea, I gained too much weight, and I was so swollen that I could barely squeeze my wedding ring onto my pinky finger. While pregnant with Alex I only threw up twice (dealing with Ab's um, messes), I swelled moderately, gained 5 less pounds, and he was frank breech at 37 weeks. By the time Lee came around I figured that because my previous pregnancies were so dissimilar I'd be able to predict the gender. No dice. I never threw up and the nausea wasn't as severe, but it lasted 4 weeks longer than the other two! My weight gain was spot on, and I wore my ring the whole time because I didn't swell a bit. When people asked what I was having, I responded that I was having an alien; only partly in jest.

Abby talked early, Alex talked late. Abby was painfully shy, Alex and Lee have always been gregarious. Abby only cuddled when she was sick or hurt, Alex and Lee are snugglebugs. Abby wasn't really an orally tactile, Lee's a human vacuum cleaner. Alex is fiercely independent, Lee clings. Alex enjoys playing with Dad, Abby not so much. Abby loves tomatoes, Alex hates them. Lee just wants everything...except the mixed vegetable baby food that has spinach in it; can't force that one down.

Of course there are similarities, but I notice the differences more because they pose challenges in the problem-resolution part of my brain. Reasoning, discipline, play, explanations, motivations, optimal shapes of sandwiches...everything needs to be customized to fit the needs of each child.

Sometimes I muse that motherhood would be much easier if I could just do the same things with each child at the appropriate stages in life. But where's the fun in that?