Seriously…who did I think I was before I had kids?
I had way too many opinions and not enough experience, but I guess that’s the benefit of being young…ignorant and naive…I miss that a little (I also miss the smooth skin and ability to touch my toes).
Anyway, I used to think that I would parent my children in the exact same manner…no matter what.
I was so wrong…so so so wrong.
Introducing Crazy Girl and Crazy Boy
Crazy Boy requires a lot more attention than Crazy Girl.  It’s always been that way.  Even when they were infants, he was louder, more demanding, and more communicative.
Crazy Girl didn’t even let me know she was starving after my boobies didn’t work…for a month…starving her…yes, I still feel guilty.
Crazy Boy has always been more physical, more vocal, more fussy, more mobile.
Crazy Girl has always been happy enough to sit around watching Crazy Boy act like a total nut job.  She walked after he did.  She talked after he did.  She pretty much did everything after he did…and loved every second of it…never complained.
I’m not saying that this doesn’t happen naturally due to gender.  Some people believe that boys develop these skills sooner than girls.  
What I’m saying is that she really didn’t get the chance to be alone with her mobility, her voice, or her needs.  His always came first because when you’re in Survival Mode, you quiet the loudest twin first.
Or is that just in my house?
As Crazy Girl found her voice, we noticed that she was still being drowned out by Crazy Boy.  As she needed more and asked for more, he became louder.
He hasn’t stopped getting louder.
It’s like his volume button is stuck on “UP.”
So, he gets parented differently.  Where I can reason and discuss things with Crazy Girl, Crazy Boy needs immediate action.  He’ll continue to flip out even while in time-out…sometimes two time-outs…sometimes three.  He’ll finally calm down and we can talk about his actions.
I seriously don’t think he gets it.
I do think she gets it.
So, I parent differently.
When she has an “incident,” I can talk to her and have her recall the time her brother did something like that to her.  She remembers.  She empathizes.  She nods along.  She looks at me with her little tear stained face and really gets it.  She apologizes with gusto and great hugs.
He stares at me blankly and throws an “I’m sorry” over his shoulder.
So, I parent differently.
When she’s in a bad mood, I can make her smile with a funny face or a little tickle.
When he’s in a bad mood, we move the furniture out of his way and let him get it out.
So, I parent differently.
When she’s sad, she needs a hug and then she feels better.
When he’s sad, he needs a hug, but then wants to be left alone for a while.
So, I parent differently.
When she does something great, new, or achieves something that she’s been working on, she receives lots of praise, applause, and encouraging shouts.  Then she stops whatever activity has led to this fanfare and moves onto something new.
When he does something that he’s been working on for a while, he receives a high five and then we sit down to watch him do it…again and again and again
So, I parent differently.
My children, who shared a womb for 38.5 weeks kicking each other in the head the entire time, are totally different.
So, I parent differently.
Anyone who tells you different is lying…of that I’m sure.
Please don’t tell my former self about my shameful parenting…she’d be so appalled!
Come take a look at me and the Crazies if you’re in the mood…we rarely disappoint!