My dad always said that parenting was 95% nature. I admit I didn’t fully believe him until I had my second child. And I was shocked, within days, by how very different this baby was than his sister had been. Where Grace was colicky and sleepless, Whit slept and cooed and smiled. She was dark, with thick black hair and deep brown eyes, and he was fair, a towhead with blue eyes. She ate everything, he was picky. She slept on her back (when she slept), and Whit slept on his stomach from the very first day (don’t tell the parenting police). Grace settled into an amenable toddler around age 2.5, but that was about the age Whit woke up and started making up for lost time with yelling and generally challenging authority.
In fact their differences started even earlier: with Grace I felt great for 40 straight weeks. With Whit I threw up every day for 20 weeks. So much for the morning-sickness-means-a-girl theory!
At their parent-teacher conferences yesterday I was reminded yet again of how very different my children are. It is easy to point to gender as the key distinction, but I think that is only part of the story; I can’t disaggregate gender and birth order, for example. I am struck, over and over again, by how much of gender seems truly innate. I know some of it is socially constructed, and I’m sure despite my earnest efforts not to I do perpetuate some of those norms. But some of it really seems just part of who they are, and it continues to surprise me.
Whit. As soon as Matt and I sat down in the tiny chairs in the Beginner classroom, Whit’s teachers were laughing. They said they can’t keep a straight face around him. They talked about his humor, his awareness of those around him, the way that he can be redirected with jokes. They described his strong preference for 3D activities like Lego and the “big blocks.” This doesn’t surprise me at all. Whit has engineer written all over him (possibly the only part of him that comes from my family).
Whit hates being alone. He loves friends, socializing, laughing, being a part of a group. This reminds me of his behavior at home. He has been known to cry from the top of the stairs if Grace and I are halfway down them, protesting that he ‘doesn’t like being aloooooone.’ As if being six steps away is alone. He plays mostly with boys and is comfortable with physical challenge despite being small. The teachers smiled recounting how he is a determined wrestler who simply jumps and clings onto the boys who are twice his size. He hangs on, and is hard to shake, they told us.
He is also physically affectionate: he loves to hug and cuddle. Last week one teacher was lying on the floor in front of the criss-cross-apple- sauce seated four year olds, working the vcr, and Whit jumped on top of her, lying flat along her body, settling himself in and pronouncing, “Best seat in the house!”
Whit has little to no interest in writing or drawing and prefers moving around to sitting, but can be coaxed into cooperation on a task if necessary. He is stubborn, however, and will dig in his heels if he really doesn’t want to do something. He barely eats at lunch because he is so busy chatting with his friends. The teachers told us a story about recess when Whit had stood up on a log and yelled “Quiet!” while sweeping his arms out. Apparently the playground quieted and all eyes turned to Whit. And then he smiled and said, “nothing,” – he had nothing to share, but seemed to want to test out his ability to get the attention of the group.
My stubborn, scrappy, social comedian, my boy who learns by doing, whose engineer’s brain is fascinated with building and creation. I love you, Whit.
Grace. The first thing Grace’s teacher told us was about how hard she is on herself. How she works diligently to be sure that anything she turns in is perfect. How she redoes assignments over when she makes mistakes. How she is careful and deliberate, eager to learn, but most of all eager to do well. The teachers talked about how she loves math and computers (she tells me these are her favorite subjects) and how she throws herself into all the subjects put in front of her.
My heart really swelled when I heard about how my daughter loves to read, loves to write. She talks about the books she is reading at home and curls over her journal, tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration, as she writes about her life and draws accompanying pictures. The teachers shared their concern about Grace’s perfectionism, wanting to be sure she doesn’t keep any frustration inside.
We then talked about her social anxieties, and I told them some of what Grace has talked about at home. About how she doesn’t feel that she fits in, about her insecurity about others liking her, about her deep desire for a best friend. She longs for a friendship around which she can orient herself, a wingman. She worries constantly about how others feel about her, and takes things very personally. She can read a room in a glance and is attuned to what others are thinking and feeling. I thought again about how Grace lately has seemed like such a liminal creature, both adult and child, struggling to subdue grown-up size emotions in her little-girl body.
My exquisitely sensitive pleaser, my wise, intelligent and driven little girl, over-concerned with the approval of others. I know you grapple already with powerful feelings and scary fears. Believe me, I know, and I will do my best to help you learn to manage them. I love you, Grace.
One of you is so familiar that the identification can sometimes cloud my mothering. The other of you is so foreign that occasionally I stare at you as though you are from another species. And yet I love you both with a fierceness I never anticipated, one that grows every day and continues to astonish me. I have learned more who I want to be and how I want to live from both you than I ever imagined possible. You continue to push and teach me every day.
Thank you, thank you.
Lovely post. Thanks for sharing your kids with us. Our first son just turned one and I can't wait to see how similar or different our next one will be. Reading your posts helps me see how much I have to look forward to.
This is a glorious read. And I know the land you're navigating. My two are very close in age (18 months), and both boys. Even when I was pregnant with them, they were dramatically different – before birth! And amazingly, who they were as babies, as toddlers, as little kids, and even now as teens / young men is consistent with their nature in utero.
My elder was go-go-go from 6am until midnight, inside of me. His "terrible twos" began at age one, and lasted until he was about four. He never napped, he never stopped moving and he never ceased asking questions. (He's my extrovert world traveler engineer… and he needs little sleep, like his mother.)
My younger slept, peacefully, for extended periods and was only moderately active while I was carrying him. I could feel his contentment, even then.
He never went through the terrible twos. Ever. (We won't talk about the teenage years!) He smiled all the time, spoke little, slept easily, could focus for hours on a single task while a toddler, and is my low-key, subtly funny artist-musician.
Nature. Something there, from the beginning. Both have been encouraged in ways that were natural to them (and being so different, have had to be taught different skills, with some difficulty).
Fascinating. I would've liked two more! And seeing just how different and unique they would've been as well.
The differences you speak of ring so true. Even with more than two, there is something to be said for gender and birth order roles. They show up whether we want them to or not.
Thank you for sharing your children with us. It reminds me of simpler times.
Lindsey.
Yes.
Just. So very. Yes.
Pushing and teaching us to be a better version of ourselves. A person we thought we could not become. A person we thought we did not have to become.
Perhaps.
Your descriptions of Whit and Grace are lovely. I feel as if I've met them. And I can read them as you can as I read your words.
Motherhood.
A force.
So Strong.
Lindsey – I think this might be my favorite post so far. I'm not sure why exactly. Yes, it is exquisitely written, but that's a given. Yes, it raises interesting questions about nature and nurture, but you always raise interesting questions. I think that I love this post so much because it is laced with both confidence and longing. In describing each of your kids, your pride is palpable. I have no doubt you revel in Grace's brethren complexity and in Whit's whimsy and otherness. But I can also sense that you have that longing (we all have) to understand your creatures, to be able to guide them in just the way they need, to solve the puzzles they become.
I have a feeling you will look back to this post often and show it to your kids once they are old enough to appreciate it.
Thanks for this window, at once foreign and very familiar.