Told not to compare; can’t help doing it

Avery walked when he was 12 months old. Shaky, those first steps, and accomplished when Holly was at work. Needed three days to coax Avery into walking again for his mom. Aurora, walking a little on her own these days. The most steps at one time? 32. On carpet. In the daycare at the gym where Holly and I go. Aurora turned 19 months old yesterday.

Avery, all bruised legs and scraped knees and bitten-to-the-quick fingernails. He’s a boy, Holly and I say to each other, but we hope that someone doesn’t think Avery is being abused, given the number of bruises he tends to have. Aurora, less rough-and-tumble and more flinging bits of avocado, to signify she’s done eating.

Avery ran into a door jam and cut open his forehead. The first time he bled. Aurora hasn’t hurt herself to the point of bleeding.

Avery has a very bland died. Aurora eats — or at least tries — anything set in front of her.

Avery stays up late, gets up early, and long ago gave us any type of standard afternoon nap. Aurora is asleep most days between 830 and 9 (closer to 8, if Holly isn’t around), and wakes up between 8 and 9. Some mornings, I can get Aurora to sleep for an extra hour, but this practice is becoming less routine as Aurora gets older. But she goes down for a nap. Usually by 1130. And she’s out until 3 or sometimes later. I get the most work done, when Aurora is asleep.

Avery didn’t have access to an iPad until he was three, since iPads didn’t exist. Aurora will not know a life without one. Same with Netflix. And parents who live in separate houses.

Their pediatrician says comparing when Aurora reaches milestones against when Avery reached those same milestones is unfair to Aurora. Everyone is different, and maybe one of Avery’s weaknesses will be one of Aurora’s strengths. Like making it through toddlerhood and little-kidhood without cuts on her knees. And I try not to compare, but I can’t help but compare.

But then something happens, like leaving the kids alone for a few minutes and coming back to find them cuddled together on a couch, watching a cartoon. And the ways the kids are, and will be, different don’t matter. All that matters is they’re here, and they love each other, and they will each survive whatever nutty parent things Holly and I do. Because we will. Nutty parent things are a given.

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This entry was posted on July 14, 2012 by and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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