My Son

Oh, my son is so much different from my daughter. Little Paul William will be two this June, but I think he's added five years to my age in the short time he's been living.
Paul is all boy, and a tough one at that. When we get together with Claire's friends from church, he's in the midst of the wrestling boys, holding his own with four year olds.
One of his favorite activities is climbing onto our love seat, pulling off the cushion, and diving headfirst into the ground. He never misses the cushion. I used to hold my breath every time did that, but now I carry on, knowing he'll be fine.
I was on a tall ladder, trimming bushes this week. I kept feeling the ladder shake and looked down to find Paul right under me.
Adam is teaching Claire to ride her bicycle, so she'll pedal down the street, focusing hard. Paul gets on his little motorcycle and scoots until he's flying down the hill with no control.
He has no fear. He will climb any ladder or slide down any slide, no matter how high. He will jump off any ledge, no matter how far down the ground is. Luckily, I have taught him to say, "No, no pool!" which just might save his life. Our pool in the backyard is deep and unfenced, so Claire has grown up constantly being trained to stay away from it. Paul is a curious little booger, so I often catch him right next to it and hold my breath. Usually, though, he's standing next to the pool to point to it and say, "No, no pool!"
We are blessed to have one girl and one boy. Adam and I haven't decided yet whether we will add another, but we're sure that the two we have keep us busy enough right now.

Learning

Before I quit work to be a stay-at-home mom/housewife, I was a teacher. I taught first grade at an elementary school in the Poly area of Fort Worth.
My school was just blocks from the intersection of I-35 and Rosedale, which during the 1990s, was the murder capital of the United States.
Since I've stopped working and am mostly focused on parenting, my eyes have been opened to just how wide the achievement gap is. Claire, almost four, knows more about the world, life, and even school subjects, than many of my first graders did.
I always knew that my students were behind those at the prosperous Tanglewood Elementary, but I never realized how much. When I had Paul and Claire was two, I started noticing. It makes me sad for those less fortunate children in our own city who start out behind and will probably spend their lives catching up.
Claire has been writing her name for almost a year now. She can count to 100 if the numbers are in front of her, or to 30 if she's counting aloud without looking. She knows the insect life-cycle and what a plant needs to grow. She adsorbs anything you teach her and retains whatever goes into her head. (This is not so good when I want her to forget things.)
She is a sponge of information, and whenever I'm teaching her and am amazed at her knowledge, (she read a small book today.) I can't help but feel a little sad for the children whose mothers have to work two jobs to put food on the table and who don't have a computer to print off storybooks or the time to even read to their children.
I know that the majority of teachers are giving above and beyond to teach their students everything they can. I know that the majority of parents do the best they can for their kids and only want them to succeed. I also know that the achievement gap is real. I don't know the answer. Some kids were born to succeed, and some to fail. I believe part of that is just the way the world works. Life just isn't fair.