Siblings call for different kinds of parenting skills

From last week's Briefing:

One of the simultaneous joys and frustrations of being parent to more than one child is recognizing the startling similarities and striking differences among siblings.

At our house, that means that some parenting jobs become routine. Cooper stated asking questions — lots of questions — about the world around him as a toddler. He hasn’t stopped.

Cooper trained me and vice versa. He asks a question, and I answer as directly and simply as I can. If I don’t know the answer, I say, “I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

I’ve tried to remain patient with his curiosity, and on just a few occasions I have to declare myself too worn out or too busy to answer. Asking questions is how you get answers, and I’m thankful that Cooper genuinely loves learning.

Little sister Katie is exactly the same. She’s been quizzing me and anyone else who will listen since age 2.

By the time Katie started her questioning stage — one I hope she never outgrows — I had already established my parenting methods for handling a curious child. It’s not as if I can coast, but I don’t have to be so deliberate.

Being mom to Cooper didn’t prepare me, though, for all of the roles required to be mom to Katie.

Cooper has no hint of perfectionism in him. He’s a big-picture kind of guy, willing to gloss over details. He doesn’t sweat the small stuff.

He’s eager to try new things and doesn’t despair if he’s not good the first time or the 10th time. He’s all about getting a little messy and making mistakes.

This is a fine quality until a big school project is due, one in which attention to detail is required. Or it’s time for a piano performance and until now you’ve been satisfied with the notes being mostly right.

I’ve learned when to push Cooper — which battles are worth fighting, which habits are worth adjusting. I’ve adjusted my own attitude about perfection, trying to edit my words before I say something that could do more harm than good. Realizing that my own need for details “just so” shouldn’t be unnecessarily pushed on others.

Then comes Katie. She’s the anti-Cooper in some ways. She’s all about the details and getting things right the first time and avoiding mistakes.

I was — sometimes still am — ill prepared for this kind of child.

Starting a new hobby or sport is dicey. If Katie doesn’t excel right away — and how often does that happen to anyone? — she’s likely to want to give up.

Can’t score a goal after kicking the ball twice during a game? Let’s just sit on the sidelines.

Can’t play a recognizable song after a few piano lessons? No thank you.

Can’t do a cartwheel after an hour gymnastics lesson? Well, why bother at all?

It had never occurred to me before Katie that I would need to explain trial and error, the need to practice, the benefit of trying even though mistakes are sure to follow.

Just like with Cooper, though, I’m learning to choose battles.

Katie played soccer for two seasons. It was a painful experience for us both. She liked the idea of the game but had no interest in actually participating. I would plead with her to play two quarters a game, reminding her of her commitment to the team.

She would begrudgingly comply, often after tears and bribes (or, to be kind, incentives). No one was winning in this scenario, and I easily made the decision to stop soccer.

Katie tried weekly piano lessons for months. She did well when she tried, but she got antsy during lessons and didn’t like to practice.

Her teacher and I recently agreed that she needs a little more maturing time. We don’t want her to sour on playing altogether, and there’s absolutely no rush. She can practice at home whenever she likes, and in a few months we’ll try lessons again.

In the case of gymnastics, I’ve encouraged Katie to stick with weekly lessons. Her cartwheel is still lopsided, but it’s getting better.

She’s no future Mary Lou Retton, but the exercise is good for her, and she improves a little each week.

And she and I both gain confidence that comes from incremental, trial-and-error success.

Tyra Damm is a Briefing columnist. E-mail her at tyradamm@gmail.com.