I can think of a few things...most of my children are grown now, but I've gotten used to giving them online nicknames for safety's sake. I'll continue to do so here. Those of you reading who know us will know whom I'm referring to...
Oldest Boy
Our oldest son was, to put it mildly, intense, as a young child. Had a scream like an opera singer, which meant a lot of Sundays I was taking him out of the main meeting so other people could hear what was going on.
He and I bonded very, very closely, to the point where he cried if anyone else but me held him...again, quite tiring.
But he was always a great listener, and I could tell him anything. Mostly because he couldn't understand a word I said, but you knew he absorbed all the sounds and all the nuances of voice.
He watched a lot of television, unfortunately, but he remembered everything. To this day, he can quote back all the words to 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' like he wrote it. He has a memory that doesn't quit.
We read a lot together too, and he learned quickly. He read his grandpa a whole basic Dr. Seuss book (The Foot Book) when he was only 1 1/2 years old, and my father looked at me with wide 'this-kid-is-a-genius!' eyes. So funny!
Oldest Girl
My second child matched the first child's intensity and took it to an 11. People today always talk about 'strong women', and my oldest girl epitomizes that in every way.
When she was three years old, I watched her playing with her older brother. He was on a trike, and she decided it was her turn to ride. So she proceeded to rip him physically off the trike, announce that it was her turn in her trumpet of a voice, and start riding while he ran back to me, crying that, "Mom! Aubrey hit me!"
I tried to homeschool her, but something seemed very wrong. I would teach her letters with great diligence, and she would retain it for about a day, but the next morning she couldn't remember anything I taught her - very different from the progress her older brother made. A couple of helpful people at our church approached me and suggested that she should be tested, which terrified me.
Eventually, I put her back into public school with her brother, just to see what would happen. Immediately the school informed me that she tested positive for dyslexia, and they put her into their pilot program for teaching dyslexic students to read.
My daughter, with absolutely no help from her clueless mom, learned to read within the next four years, about two years faster than the other students normally did. Now, while she still feels the effects of the dyslexia, she can read just as well as anyone.
Youngest Girl
My youngest girl came to us with some invisible baggage. She developed a deep depression and anxiety problem, starting around age 5. For years, she hid it from us. Her early teenage years seemed very dark, but I convinced myself it was just a teenage phase. My hubby felt differently, having experienced other family members who were clinically depressed in the home he grew up in.
At age 12, we took her to a psychologist, and thank God, she trusted him with her suicide note and some of her very disturbing drawings that pointed out the problem in an undeniable way. His first words to me after their session were, "She needs to go to the mental hospital. Today."
So we got her some help, which fortunately helped her in the short-term, but got us stuck on a four-year, unhelpful treadmill of a psychiatrist who couldn't have care less if my baby ever got better.
My youngest girl fought back. She changed her diet, removing all forms of sugar for a very long time. She learned how to cook Paleo foods, and became an amazing cook. She exhibited a will of iron against her depression, her anxiety, and even the hallucinations the medication she took induced in her.
I feel somewhat guilty now, for all the times my poor sugar-addicted self tried to tempt her away from what she was doing, but she would take counsel from no one but herself, and I learned to better support her over time.
Today, she takes only vitamins to manage her depression. Our family doctor determined that she has a genetic predisposition to not making sufficient serotonin in her body on her own, so the supplements she takes help her do that, without the hallucinations or other side effects. She has grown into a wise and talented and funny young woman, and I hope to enjoy the pleasure of her company for many years to come.
Youngest Boy
My youngest boy has a brain I cannot fathom.When I married my husband, I thought he was a pretty deep and original thinker, but this kid delves into areas I never considered, and I have a really hard time keeping up with his musings.
He's not a writer (yet), but he comes up with some very unique ideas that I could run with. Some of my very best short stories were born from his fertile imagination.
He's also very kind and compassionate towards others, like his dad, and super helpful and handy around the house.
I remember one day when we were struggling with some mechanical issue in the house - can't remember specifically what it was now. I just remember my youngest boy coming up to me, smiling. "I fixed it, Mom!" Such a feeling of relief, and awe, just washed over me, and all those years of trying to keep him from playing with the toilet as a child finally made sense.
When I can't remember how to turn on the TV, he's there. When the Internet goes down, he's there. When I don't feel like taking out the trash in the rain, he's there.
His math skills are tremendous, and his potential for the future is really great. I truly don't know how I'm going to afford to replace him when he leaves home. It's going to be an expensive prospect, for sure.
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