No Box Big Enough

When Miss Curie was very young, I started reading to her every day, having been convicted by Mem Fox's Reading Magic that this was essential to her future development. Miss Curie often seemed to have little interest in the books apart from the lovely sound they made when their pages were ripped. I thought she probably wouldn't be very interested in reading when she got older. Today, however, she loves to read.

When she was less than a year old, Miss Curie would copy me when I wiped the floor, and she could spend ages smoothing out a blanket perfectly. I was pretty sure that she was going to grow up to be a neat freak. Nearly eight years later, her bed is the messiest in the house (although it is "made") and I often find dirty clothes stuffed in her drawers to the point that they won't open. The "neat freak" box wasn't big enough.

Around the same time, Miss Curie would get really grumpy and out of sorts when we took her to crowded places. As soon as we would leave a hall full of lots of chattering people, she seemed to become "herself" again. I figured she was probably an introvert just like me.

When she was just over two, Miss Curie would often ask me "who are we going to see today?" I would look at her in wonderment, amazed that I had given birth to a child who was apparently an extrovert. Now, at eight and a half, Miss Curie loves to be around other people while doing solitary activities - she loves someone to be in the room with her while she sews or reads a book. On the other hand, she loves her French class because, in her break she gets to "play with the other kids". The "introvert" box isn't big enough.

When Chatterbox was just a baby she was terrified of "creepy crawlies" of all kinds. As she got older she was scared of the dark, of water... the list of things she was scared of kept getting bigger. At the beach one day she was beside herself when she saw her older sisters actually sitting in the waves. She kept yelling at them: "Get up, girls! Get up!" I resigned myself to having an overcautious child. A year on she has suddenly discovered an adventurous spirit and enjoys touching bugs and playing in surf. The "scaredy-cat" box isn't big enough.

Angelina spoke her first words well before she was a year old and a couple of years later she started playing with rhymes. From just three years old she has loved to make up stories and songs. I was convinced that she would learn to read before her older sister. Now she will be seven soon, and learning to read has been a much longer, slower process for her than it was for Miss Curie (and that is totally OK). The "language lover" box wasn't big enough.

So what's the point in all my ramblings? Just that I'm learning not to put my kids in boxes, because no box is big enough. So often, I have thought that I know my girls, only discover that I don't - not really. If I want to know my children and enable them to grow, I can't assign them an identity based on just a few moments in time. To truly nurture them, sometimes I need to just stand back and watch without the need to pull out my field guide to children in order to work out whether they are "introverts" or "hypersensitive" or "gifted" or ... whatever.

It's essential to guide our children towards growing in character, rather than excusing immoral or reckless behaviour because "that's just who they are". However, I need to learn to accept and appreciate my children with all their harmless little quirks and eccentricities - the bits that make them unique without hurting themselves or others. I don't have to put them in a box to do that.

As for The Baby, she's a mischeivous little thing right now. She has learned to open jars, bottles, cupboards... you name it... and chaos has ensued. When Baby has had enough to eat, she indicates this by either spreading her food artistically and strategically over the table, or by throwing it on the floor (although she is rapidly learning that this is not How Things Are Done). I don't know what personality "box" she belongs in, though, because no box is big enough.