I recently had lunch with a colleague, each of us discussing our children and how much they have grown over the years. As we were chatting, the realization of how different each one of my boys has turned out hit me.
I have always tried to be reasonable with my boys, always trying to be fair. Each birthday or Christmas gift was always roughly the same dollar amount, as my way to avoid the never-ending fight about favouritism. As they have grown, they like to employ the argument of favouritism, which is promptly disputed, reminding whoever is throwing the accusation of all that I have recently done for them.
Each child has had the same upbringing, learning all the same lessons – whether it was second-hand conversation from a brother getting the brunt of the discipline or them on the receiving end and even the same triumphs and traumas — each one of them is vastly different.
My eldest son is a sports fanatic. He became interested in hockey around the age of nine to 10, wanting to join the local team. While I was not opposed to him playing hockey, I was concerned that his peers would have been stronger on the ice than he was. Along with the difficulty of being a single working mom trying to pay for expensive equipment and travelling almost every weekend, we decided to join the recreational hockey team instead. He was soaking up as much knowledge of the sport and players as he could. He had a hunger for the stats, not just of recent players but players who came from the 1970s, which surprised my dad and hockey-loving uncle. As my son has gotten older, he has expanded into other sports like football and baseball.
My middle son has always been a reader. He had the odd sport that he enjoyed, but nothing like the eldest. He would much rather curl up with a good book and get lost in the world of fiction. When he was introduced to the wizarding world of Harry Potter, he was hooked for life. He began diving deeper and deeper into the fantasy world, opening realms into the anime genre, where he learned about all multiple generations of Pokémon. That turned into a keen interest in slaying dragons in the role-playing game of Dungeons and Dragons. He is also a what-if thinker, always theorizing about what would to do when faced with certain situations. He also asks the hard questions, the ones that stump moms who generally know enough to get by. He likes to joke around most times, but when pushed too far, he is done.
And the youngest. He has a knack for making everyone laugh and somehow has a talent for learning something new in just a few moments. He is a bit of a daredevil, a grease monkey, never afraid to get his hands – or clothes – dirty. He goes with the flow, always up for a good time. With a plethora of friends, he is the biggest social butterfly out of all three of the boys. He has an engineer’s mind, always finding ways to build something that will work, regardless of the medium he is using. He has built suction-powered engines from Lego bricks just to watch them work by running the vacuum (I’m still trying to find a way to get him to use the machine for its intended purpose). He likes being Grandpa’s sidekick, helping to get a 1993 Ford Tempo, which has been sitting for at least 10 years, running again, or waking up early to get in some early morning fishing. A passion for airplanes has also grown within him recently and he has been gradually learning how to fly.
Since they have all found their interests, I have found that the way I parent each one needs to be fine-tuned. One may not appreciate the same joking mannerisms as the next or may need some time to cool off before being able to sit down and talk. There is the odd fight when one wants to play catch and the other two could care less about participating. Yet, they all seem to take turns sharing interesting information among themselves, which is a sign that they are growing up.
As a single parent, all I ever wished for was for my boys to grow up to be decent human beings. So, yes, my children may not be alike but the values that have been instilled in them are.
