The difference between the two…

My in-laws used to tell us that you are not really a parent until you have two. The point was- until you have to try and decide who did it-- while they are both pointing the finger at the other-- you are not truly putting all of your parenting skills or personal ingenuity to the test.
At the time, I thought this was a rather restrictive view of parenthood. I also thought it was a bit selfish. I was an only child. My mother was an only child. My stepfather was an only child. My mother wasn’t truly a mother because she did not produce a sibling for me? I was not truly a mother to K until I had Ant?
I still think it is not the ‘right’ way to look at parenthood (if you have one child, you are still legally, ethically, morally and financially responsible for another human being incapable of caring for themselves). I do-- after nearly seven years of two-- understand the point they were trying to make.
My boys don’t point fingers at one another often (more on this some other time). What does surprise me, and make two so much more than one, is how different they are from one another. No matter how hard I tried, I just did not expect it.
They are both boys. They look similar to one another. They are raised in the same house, by the same parents, with the same toys and books. And yet…
K is articulate, charismatic, cautious and sometimes hard. He is strong, forceful, and yet judicious. His hand is quick, but his mind is quicker. He excels at many things, and that gratifies him. The kid is neat, orderly, book smart, and will continue with a learned mind all of his life.
Ant is of few words and many actions. Little scares him, and yet, he has the warmest, most caring heart I have ever seen. Ant does not strive to excel at many things, but if he puts his mind to something, especially if it is physical, he will achieve it in short order. Ant cares very little for school, but knows the secrets of human hearts that most of us do not fully comprehend in adulthood. As a baby it was sometimes disconcerting—he could look at you, and somehow, you knew that this infant understood exactly what you felt.
Another thing that still astounds me is that you can love them both the same, and yet so differently. Part of it is the difference in their ages. They need different things from me; they are in different stages of life. Part of it is that they will always require different things from me.
Ant does not need to rely on me for reassurance or validation. He knows he is loved, and openly loves back.
Kyle does not need to be assisted through the trials of frustration. He is calm, collected, and sometimes needs to be reminded about the emotions of others.
My in-laws were right, and they were wrong. I was a parent before Ant graced us with his presence. I was not as fully accomplished in my parenting as I am now, having to continuously negotiate two very different children, their needs and wants.
To me this is the best/hard part of being a parent: seeing the development of two radically different human beings, and trying to keep them two of them together, loving one another as brothers, for as long as possible. If I can keep them together into adulthood, they will be a formidable force and an amazing team.