Resist the Urge to Compare Kids

I’m reluctant to admit it, but I compare my 2½-year-old daughter to other kids her age. 

I tell myself not to, but I still fall into the trap.

Does she talk as well as them? Play as well as them? Is she as outgoing? Smart? Skilled?

It’s crazy, and I scold myself when I do it. Kids and their personalities are so different. So is their development. 

Last week, for example, I decided to try to potty train my daughter cold-turkey: Right from diapers to underwear. Two of my neighbors did it with their kids and they said they were potty-trained in a couple of days with hardly any accidents. I figured if they could do it, so could Julia.

So my daughter and I went to Target to pick out her underwear (Dora and Princess Tiana). I made a big fuss over how “big girl” it was and how great she looked in them the next day.

Then I hunkered down at home, convinced I’d train her in a few days. After all, she’s a smart, good, easy-going kid. Surely, she could learn as fast as my neighbors’ kids did.

Wrong.

She had several accidents in two days and got more upset with each one. She started adamantly rejecting even sitting on the potty, let alone going to the bathroom on it. 

By the end of day two, we were both exhausted and stressed. This was crazy. Time to back up and take a slower, more gradual approach. She’s just not like my neighbors' kids in this way. And that’s OK.

There’s no greater pride than watching your child learn, succeed and be happy. But what defines success and happiness for each kid is different. One measuring stick does not fit all. 

I saw that to be true at my neighbor’s little league baseball game this week. He and his teammates came in all shapes and sizes and skill levels. Some could really whack the ball; others swung aimlessly at it. Some could throw the ball over the plate; others hit the batters. 

Some of the parents, God bless ‘em, cheered like it was the World Series. Others paced nervously like expectant fathers.

Secretly — or not — they were all hoping their kid would be the hero of the game. The best one on the field. Better than all the rest.

Thing is, only a few kids can be that good. The rest will plug along and find their talents elsewhere. And that’s OK.

My daughter needs a little more time to potty train. I can certainly live with that.