Comparing

Every kid is gifted in their own ways. The more of them that I raise, the more I see that. But it is easier to see when a younger sibling surpasses an elder one, so I wonder how much is just learning something faster because you have the older siblings for an example? I am sure that there are instances where the elder sibling truly excels, but we have to wait 3 years for the younger to get to that age to be able to see it, and by then, parent amnesia has set in. So, I just observe the differences in amusement, trusting that all will end well.

I thought of this phenomena today because John started riding a two-wheeled bike. He has been asking since the weather warmed to have his training wheels off, but I kept putting him off, partly because I just didn't really believe he could be ready. After all, James only first got that bike (with the training wheels) on his fourth birthday (John's age now). He rode it two summers until he reached age 6, when we pushed him to try without the extra wheels. It took several hours, as I recall, with Jeremy running him up and down the sidewalk.

Margaret also had a fairly sedate start, just a few months ahead of James for each milestone. She got the bike as a hand-me-down when she was not quite a bit past 3-and-a-half, rode 2 years with the training wheels, then a few months before she turned 6, picked up riding with two-wheels (more or less) in an hour or two on Grandpa's and Grandma's front yard.  Thus, she was slightly ahead of James but not significantly.



Flashback to May 2010: Maggie and Mom work together on the take-off



This is pretty exciting!

Look at me! I'm doing it! I'm doing it!

Ta Da! Celebrating at the finish line with Uncle Jim.

John, on the other hand, was trying to get onto Maggie's training-wheel-equipped bike before he was yet 2.

John, a stubborn 22-month-old here in April 2009, insists that he is going to ride Maggie's new bike. Tricycle, shmicycle.

We always thought Maggie was strong-willed, until we met John. He did eventually get on the bike.

Oh, Joy! Riding with Maggie was acceptable, but this was what John really wanted.

We finally turned the bike over to John just past his 3rd birthday. Today, just past his 4th birthday, he decided it was time to ditch the training wheels. And he did it. He couldn't wait for Mom to be done nursing Helen, so he headed out on his own. Maggie volunteered to coach him, but within 10 minutes, they were back inside, announcing success. John had done it. (Click here to see the video of John riding today.)

Whoa-ho! I did it!

We see these differences between the kids in other venues, of course. James will never be a kid who cares about spelling, for example. I had to put my foot down recently, however. I was sorting through the last of his 4th grade school papers (finally!) and found a poem about his parents. A very nice poem, but he spelled my name Jeneffer. Really. I began remedial tutoring immediately for spelling my name. He is very capable of learning any word, but it doesn't always stick, and I think it is at least partly because nobody will ever really convince James of why he should care.

Margaret, on the other hand,  loves spelling. That is not to say that she is naturally an A-speller; she has certainly presented some unusual spellings. However, just a year ago, as she began 1st grade, she was barely reading at all. Given that, her spelling has developed remarkably well. She seems to enjoy spelling, including helping James study his list every week and lamenting that she doesn't have more words of her own. The occassional impromptu spelling bee at our house is a touchy affair as she she will generally outspell James about two-to-one.

But again, Margaret can be outshone by John in some areas. I was particularly frustrated yesterday. I sat on the kitchen stool, nursing Helen. Maggie was across the counter from me, asking where to find a particular piece of flatware (the sugar spoon, technically, but it makes a nifty soup spoon for John and she was helping him get lunch). She had the big, wide silverware drawer fully open and I was trying to describe to her in which caddy the desired spoon would be found.

"Maggie, towards the front a bit. No, not so far. Okay, now to your left. Uh, Maggie?" She looked up and gave me a dumbfounded stare.

"Which way is left, again?"

"THAT WAY!" John piped in and pointed correctly, before I could answer. It was not the first time he had demonstrated a more solid understanding of left and right, but it was one of the more obvious ones.


(Although, a more startling example of Maggie's discomfort with right and left came at dinner tonight. Jeremy mentioned something being "draconian," which required some definitions and etymology and Greek history. To illustrate a punishment that was unusually harsh, I told a hypothetical story. "Suppose the government really wants everyone to walk on the right side of the street, to improve pedestrian traffic flow. A draconian approach would be that anyone caught walking on the incorrect side would have his left left cut off." I felt reasonably smug about this example. Then Maggie replied, in all earnestness, "Well, that might be good because then at least you would always know which side was your left or the right.")