'My two kids have different mums: But both of them just happen to be me.'

When my son, my first baby, was 15 months he loved to throw food on the ground. He would take the mashed banana and blueberries, massage them in his hands and then fling them across the room. He would lock eye contact with me as he swept his chubby little arm across the tray of his high chair sweeping toast crust and pasta straight onto the ground. I took this behaviour really personally. 

I wondered what kind of psychopath would make eye contact and blatantly do something so contrary to expectations and social norms. I would use a stern, sometimes raised voice and as instructed by my parenting books, remind him we do not throw food, this is not okay. I would get on my hands and knees to retrieve the food, sighing with frustration as he giggled. 

When my daughter, the darling second child who came just less than three years later, made the same moves, at the same age, I completely ignored it. I mostly left the food on the ground; cleaning it up once she was wiped up and onto the next activity or nonchalantly put it back on her tray to be eaten or thrown again. I had a toddler to deal with, who had grown out of the throwing food stage and was now standing on his chair to chat. The kitchen mess no longer seemed like such a violation.

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At six, my son likes structure and is sensitive with a focus on justice. He’s also confident and charming. My daughter, now almost four, thinks she’s a cat. I was watching them recently, marvelling at the different ways they approach play. My son was lining cars up and my daughter was singing and waving a scarf just to watch it fly through the air when it occurred to me they have different mothers. Both of them just happen to be me.

As a toddler, when my son would have a meltdown in public, I was mortified. He had (still has) big feelings and wasn’t afraid to lie down in a public space and let everyone know what he was feeling. I would try to reason with him, scolding him, until often the situation ended with me carrying his flailing, screaming body back to the car, diaper bag falling off my shoulder and picking up his kicked-off shoes as I went. 

These unruly toddler meltdowns embarrassed me and I assumed strangers thought I was a terrible parent. By the time my daughter started having toddler tantrums, I knew that lots of kids melted down periodically and that it was a phase. As a result, I’d rub her back, soothe her or just stand back and hope the passersby enjoyed the show. 

My son has an anxious, parenting book-reading, societally conscious mum. My daughter’s mum is a chilled out, go-with-the-flow goofball. The expectations I put on myself with my first child were unrealistic. I imagined he would be kind, funny, polite, well-dressed and mostly clean except for those cute, photographable, messy moments. 

As my life pre-kids didn’t involve anyone throwing food or running in the opposite direction in a public space when I called their name, my patience for this behaviour was low. I didn’t understand that what I perceived as defiance was developmentally appropriate.

When my second baby arrived, I was tired. I was far more aware that most baby and toddler phases last less than four months, the good and the bad ones. I knew from other parents what was “normal” and that I wasn’t alone in scrubbing spaghetti sauce off the top of my fridge during naptime. If my second toddler was smiling, I was winning and if there was a disaster being created I’d clean it up later. And if she wasn’t smiling, I did my best to ignore her or try to hug a tantrum out of her, which usually worked a lot faster than the logic I had tried on my son.

Jenn Wint and her two kids. Image: Supplied.

I’m the oldest child myself and no one would argue that I am substantially less “chill” than my younger brother. I’m fascinated by birth order and everything I’ve read lets me know I am a typical first child. I’m a type A, with high expectations and I love to be a leader. I think I’m funny too (a second child trait) but that’s debatable. I have faint memories of having my parents' undivided attention before my brother came along to distract them. I know I sucked a lot of their energy and my brother likely got whatever was left. 

My daughter gets less attention than my son ever has. There is just more to juggle, and less time available than when there was just one set of scribbles to oooh and ahhh over. 

She’s often chatting to herself and playing while I’m at the table doing math homework with my son. I sometimes miss it when she’s achieving something for the first time as I feel like I’ve seen it already. I often find myself helping her when she doesn’t need help because, in my mind, she’s a baby. 

I get frustrated easily with my son when he isn’t following instructions accurately because he’s a ‘big boy’ now and should be able to run out to the car and get me what I need. My expectations of them have a greater gap than their ages. 

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I’m definitely no parenting expert. 

I know my different parenting style with each child is shaping them and from my birth order fascination, I’ve learned that I’m not the first to raise a family this way. 

Now that I’m becoming aware of this imbalance I’m trying to shift it, mostly to apply a more 'laissez-faire' attitude, patience basically, to both kids to give us all a little grace to make mistakes and clean up later. 

Each of my children is uniquely loveable. Their behaviour boggles my mind at times and amazes me at others. They are each the best and worst of me. It is wild to think they have the same dad, were birthed by the same mum and live in the same house but are so totally opposite in so many ways. 

I wonder if, as they get older, my parenting styles will merge, and they will both get the same mum or if their differences will always result in me parenting them individually. 

While I often feel guilty for the standards I hold my son to or the lack of one-to-one focus my daughter gets, I know one thing is equal. I love them both to bits. 

Definitely one more than the other some days, but overall, I know I’m spreading all the love I have to give, equally between them. 

Feature Image: Supplied.