Fast forward 16 months, and I still think that we hit the twin jackpot. Unfortunately, my aspirations for equality and non-comparison flew out the window on day one. I still struggle daily with it, but Molly and Jack are so different that it's impossible not to notice. It seems that we have one tough cookie (Molly) and one little one who crumbles easily (Jack). That's right, folks.... Gingersnap vs Shortbread.
Molly is a clumsy, adorable, running disaster and she doesn't even care. Unless I witness a trip or fall, it is exceedingly rare that I will know it happened. No tears, she just picks herself back up, trips again, and repeats the process. There are days when she looks like a walking bruise. You'd swear someone was beating my child while she naps! She's just a tough little girl. Our gingersnap.
Speaking of boo-boos, I can probably pinpoint to the minute, when Jack got each of his. He makes it painfully clear when he has fallen, whether he's actually hurt or not. If you look even at him funny, cue the waterworks. To call him sensitive is the understatement of the year. Crumbly, messy, shortbread.
Until recently, I hadn't put much thought into our response to the kids' mishaps. We just did what came naturally. Now, I'm thinking that my "natural" reaction may not have been the most appropriate one.
Chicago Bears Wide Reciever, Brandon Marshall, was recently interviewed about bullying in the NFL, and he said this:
"When a little boy falls down, the first thing we say as parents is 'Get up, shake it off. You'll be ok. Don't cry.' A little girl falls down, what do we say? 'It's going to be ok.' We validate their feelings. So right there from that moment, we're teaching our men to mask their feelings, to not show their emotions."
I am still not sure how to balance our little cookies outrageously different personalities, but I love Brandon's take on how not to address the crumbling.