Being different is a good thing. I will now write that 100 times.

Sometimes a parenting Fail will just slap you in the face out of nowhere.  That happened to me this week.

Lately when we read books to Joel, I've noticed that he doesn't really want to listen fully to the story.  I chalked it up to immaturity, and just not fully comprehending some of the books we were reading.  After all, I thought, Gabriel was getting all of it by the time he was Joel's age.  So I have been fussing at him a little for not listening while I read to him.

He has a tendency to pick out the same books over and over, so lately at bedtime I have him pick out one book, and I pick out one that is new to him.  This has worked pretty well, and he seemed excited about reading, "Owen", a book about a little mouse who doesn't want to part with Fuzzy, his blanket.  But he kept interruping to ask questions.  "Who is Mrs. Tweezers?"  "Is she a boy or a girl?"  "Is that Owen or another mouse?"  Then he asked about one of the pages where the illustrator had drawn a door and part of another room in the background, "Where is that?"  I lost it.  I yelled at him for not listening and suddenly he looked down and covered his ears with his hands.  This is a move he does anytime he knows he is in trouble for something.  And I was filled with an emotion that came so quickly it almost knocked me out of my chair:  Shame.

Here is my child, filled with curiosity that his brother never even had.  Here is my child, wondering about things that do not seem important to me but are extremely important as he learns all he can about this big, confusing world.  Here is my child, being so observant he notices details on a page that most kids would never even see.  And I yelled at him for it.

I took a deep breath and said, "Jojo, that room is the kitchen.  See the pots and pans hanging on the wall?"  "Ooooooohhhhhh, the kitchen,  Cool!"  he replied.

I will try to stop comparing my kids.  I will try to accept and celebrate both their likes and their differences.  I will look at this particular child with wonder when he asks his questions, when he points out things to me I've missed, when he uses words like, "Splendid!" like he did at breakfast this morning.  When he, completely out of the blue, exhibits a passion for play-by-play while watching the Olympics.

I will try to just let him BE, and love everything about him.  From now on.