Four Kids--Four Personalities

It never ceases to amaze me how different the children in one family can be. Not only do siblings often vary in appearance, but I've noticed an even larger discrepancy in personality. Take, for instance, my kids.

My ten-year-old is responsible, sweet and sensible. She looks and acts more like a 13-year-old, but in a good way (meaning, she's not into boys or popularity and such yet). She's a bit dramatic and can lose her temper, but she immediately gets a hold of herself and apologizes. She is seldom in any real trouble, although her mother does wish she would show more respect and love to her younger brother. She doesn't care a lot about personal appearance, and in fact, could probably up her performance in hygiene a little.

For example, just last week she was invited to a party with some girls she plays soccer with. Since she's not asked to such events often, I thought it might be a good idea to take her hair of her daily pony tail and maybe spend a few minutes brushing it out and making it look a little more presentable. Also, I suggested a change of clothes--nothing fancy--just clean and unholy. She didn't agree. "It's not a beauty pageant, mother. It's just a little pizza party." Agreed, but a little more effort couldn't hurt, could it?

Then there's my eight-year-old son. He's athletic and fun and soaks up the most he can out of life. He is always busy, and in fact, cannot even sit on a couch without tossing a ball up and catching it. He has a lot of friends and needs them. He does not like playing solo. He has a great sense of humor and a wonderful heart. He gets into trouble on a more regular basis and has a horrible temper, but he's learning to go to his room, get a grip, then come apologize. He absolutely does not like it when someone raises his/her voice at him, so I have to be so careful in how I speak to him when I am frustrated, and in fact, I have to discipline him completely different from my ten-year-old. He makes me smile every day with his quick wit.

The other day I was telling him about a neighbor girl who had run into another child on the playground and had ended up cracking her skull in two places. My other children were riddling me with questions about the accident when Nate looked at me and said, "So you're telling me she ran into someone and broke the school in two different places? Where did the school get broken?" It took me a moment to realize he was thinking of the building he attends every day to learn, rather than the girl's head. We all laughed as I explained that when I said the word, "skull," I meant the bones that surround the brain in our heads. What I loved most is that, rather than be offended that we laughed at him (like my 10-year-old may have done), he joined in and laughed right along with us.

My five-year-old is a diva in training. She cares a lot about how she looks and changes her clothes many times a day. She is particular about how I fix her hair and loves nothing more than for someone to tell her she looks cute. I picked her up from preschool recently and asked how it went. Her response was, "Nobody said I looked cute today. Dari's hair was cuter than mine." I didn't even know how to respond. Just the next day, she came into the bathroom while I was getting ready and said with exasperation, "Oh great, you look cuter than I do today!" She's a smart as a whip and helpful and sweet, but when she decides to throw a fit--watch out! She plays with a swarm of little boys in the neighborhood and when I asked her why she liked playing with boys so much, she said it was so she could boss them around. I have no doubt that's true. She's also a bit of a pathological liar (she recently told her preschool teacher I was expecting twins--not true), but we're working on embracing honesty.

While exercising at my friend's house the other day, she asked me if she could go upstairs. I told her she needed to stay downstairs where I could monitor her. She was not pleased with that answer, and a minute later, I heard her tell her little brother, "Mom won't let us go upstairs because she's a (pause) mom--a word I can't say because it's a potty word and I don't want to have to do a chore." That's Regyn (or should I say Savannah since she also told me she hates her name and wants to officially change it) to a tee.

Lastly, there's my three-year-old. He's usually happy and content and loving. He follows Regyn around like a little puppy and apparently doesn't mind being told what to do all day. He loves to read stories and do puzzles and most of all, ask questions. I've never known a child who can ask so many questions. "Are we going swimming now? At the pool? Where there's deep water? Where I have to be careful so I don't drown? Because drowning means I die? And you don't want me to die? Because then you'll be sad?" And on and on and on. I try responding to each question but it gets tiring fast.

Last week I was rushing to get ready to go to the school for an event for one of my older children. Running a bit behind schedule, I was trying to come up with a fast hairdo. Without realizing it, I said out loud to myself, "I can't do that to my hair. I look like an idiot." The next thing I knew, Boston was at my side. "Mom, what does an idiot look like?" Needless to say, I had no answer for that question.

Four kids--four unique personalities. What can I say? At least, it keeps life interesting.