What About Me?

Summer seems to be busier than the school year, or so it seems... since I haven't updated the blog in a while. To be honest, it's been a pretty discouraging month.

You know how you're never supposed to compare your children? I always hated it when my parents compared me with my brother. My brother was book smart. I was street smart... and book smart, but I think it was mostly to keep my parents off my back. He thrived on learning science and math. I liked English and Bible class. The only ways that my brother and I are similar are by having the same DNA, by believing baseball is the most boring sport in the universe and by not preferring to eat ham. Oh, and that we both received "Bachelor of Science" degrees. He likes to remind me that my degree is NOT a real science degree, like his. He got his B.S. in Physics. I received my B.S. in Recreation Administration. There was always a comparison.

Since my boys are still young, I didn't expect it to happen so soon. How is my 4 year old better than his 7 year old brother when he plays Wii? He excelled the first time he played it. How come most folks can understand when my 4 year old says words, but constantly have to ask my 7 year old what he's saying? How can I tell what my 4 year old is drawing before I can tell what my 7 year old has drawn? 

The other day, my boys got a treat - little white powdered donuts. I gave Jared 5 on a white napkin and put 2 on Zane's napkin. Zane said, "I'd like the same as him." I said, "What do you mean?" He said, "I only have 2 but he has 5. I need 3 more." I tried not to gasp. I was in utter disbelief.  Did he just do math in his head? He didn't pick up each donut and count it and then add the others with his hand. He just looked at the napkin and quickly told me the situation. White donuts on a white napkin. The reason why that is of importance is because things like that make Jared's brain kick into overdrive because it seems harder to count when everything's the same color. Who taught Zane to add/subtract? Last I checked he counts to 7 and then adds random numbers. I wanted to jump up and down and praise my little boy, but I stopped myself because Jared feels any praise for any other person means a "put down" for him {we're working on this issue around the clock}. 

I couldn't wait for Ray to come home so that I could tell him about Zane. I said, "Is he brilliant? Where did he learn that?" Ray's response: "No. He's normal." {crush. shatter. sound of my heart breaking for Jared.} You see, we could work for 5 days straight with Jared, adding and subtracting donuts and he would probably end the week still guessing his answers. It takes so long for concepts to "stick" and then we have no clue if they will still be there next week.

People have said to find something that each child is good at, to promote individualism. So far, Zane is excelling in the things that Jared does well, along with the things that Jared cannot do. I'm having such difficulty trying to find ways to outwardly encourage my little one without crushing my older child. Jared's most common phrase seems to be "What about me?" He says it so much that it's Ray's most hated phrase on the planet. Wherever we are, if someone has something or does something, Jared will say, "What about me?" We've been trying to help his understanding, but I know it has to do with this deficit of self esteem that his invisible disability has eaten.

My discouragement stems from expectations that Jared should excel more rapidly than he is. Things just aren't clicking in that brain of his. They're not. Zane is on the sidelines listening to us teach Jared and his brain is a sponge, soaking it all in. I think that's so wonderful for my little one, but I'm just confused as to how to deal with all this in a sensitive way...as to not crush either of my precious boys' spirit.

Direct me in the path of your commands, for there I find delight.  Psalm 119:35 (NIV)