Every parent has shame around parenting, I think, and it’s a separate shame for each child, no matter how many children you have. (Unfortunately, it’s possible to have more than one per child as well.) In the case of my “youngest” (by thirteen minutes), it’s the shame around how he feels about numbers. I panicked when he wasn’t as facile with numbers as he was with letters and words when he was younger; I scolded him for not applying himself, I know I made him feel bad and panicky around them. Hence, the shame, both his and mine. (For what it’s worth, his brother had the opposite learning dynamic, which meant there was a different set of shame, but that’s another story.)
When I collected myself, I had a realization – or was it a theory? – that the things they both struggled with at seven or eight would be easier to work with when they were older, and what they needed more of at that age was play. So we prioritized outside time, tried to make sure they touched words, numbers, and documentaries, but I let them be for as long as possible.
I was right. (Please appreciate how much someone who experiences so much shame on a regular basis enjoys saying that.) At sixteen, the “younger” one can multiply numbers quickly (and better than about half of the adults I’ve met), while the “older” one, though he still doesn’t love reading, can read, write, and comprehend at the level you’d expect when you hear him speak (they’re both sharp-witted, let’s leave it at that). They are, in other words, both everything they need to be and just fine.
Kids need more outside time, because math and words will come. Adults need to remind themselves that even if they don’t, it’s better that they have memories of what they can do, not what they can’t.
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