Very good! Anyone with two or more children, surely you would argue if you wonder why as are each of them, which are very different. Perhaps as "night and day," used metaphorically. It is curious to note how out of it "works" and pouring the same "ingredients", the results can be so extremely contradictory. I'm not talking physical appearance, which in some cases the differences are very obvious and even .... ahem !!... suspicious. I mean something more hidden and not visible to the naked eye or at least not at first sight. A way of being of each one of them or them.
If you have a couple. Boy and girl. Already genetically predisposed to be different. And nooooooooooo, I do not mean the obvious differences of sex ... Always thinking the same thing !!... Let's focus ... I remember a work colleague that I was super mega long feminist. Vehemently defended the theory that if you educate a child without gender bias, would behave similarly. How much was given when she had her son, that practice gave no reason. I was playing a doll and did not want. He preferred football or cars.
Among children of the same sex is when it is most paradoxical. Gee, should be very similar ... or so logic would tell me, before going through the experience. Same father and mother, the same social environment, education itself .... But no. The truth is that I had to be taken into account my particular case with my brother. We can not be more different in everything. But do not know why, think it may be an exception to the rule ... At this point, I certify that the general is just to be different. And the exceptional being equal, that I say that only the twins reach a point that emotional connection that makes you think and act almost as a single person. Taken to particular field, my two sons are very different in many respects. It is beyond any discussion that I love them both equally. With its strengths and weaknesses, as I have them (and many ... flaws, virtues speak ... less). In this post today, I will stop the academic side, ie the studies. What pobrecitos mine ... what is still ahead of you ... buffff!
Victor, the oldest, since he looked small and responsible for their things tidy with his material and freedom to do their homework without his mother or me, we were over it to make them. He himself picked up and put with them. Sometimes, like any child, we must be angry with him for the right and turn off the TV, but to be honest, are the least ... Organize his time.
Now that I hear ... drool I like the guy are the things you immediately. The school to which they both are bilingual and many of the subjects should learn English. And hear him tell me the lesson in the language of Shakespeare makes me envious of (healthy) you can not see ....
And then there's Hugo, the small. Quite the opposite of the previous. Messy, confused the day is ... With him I wanted to stop a little, with your permission ... or not, that ultimately this is my home ...
Although very cani, showed signs of what is described ... Bichot was a restless, who picked up a "balloon" of two pairs when not in his own way and was thrown to the ground kicking Kamikace plan everything I could and more .... The "glitches" began to be a root passing primary, after the stage when children go to school a little more than to play and hang out. Began to bring homework home and had to be with him to arrange all necessary equipment and help with homework, because otherwise we would not even know where to start. It distracted by the flight of a fly and in class he kept quiet for a minute. And all these, I pass the course by the inertia of being the first year. In second grade it gets more serious. Start and subtraction with worn, multiplication, dictates .. anyway ... for small is becoming a world, and in the case of Hugo, more. Began the course by the same line as I have just ... your ball, go ... with him that the explanations and obligations would not. What you'd say, two minutes and he had forgotten. I acknowledge that I have no patience, but buffff ... !!!... is that the friend has a curd. I sat beside him and started a good roll with it. What if this is done or it is handle ... "Do you understand?" I ask. "Yes" I answered with two large greenish eyes fixed on mine. "Well, come ... do as I said." Seconds of suspense .... "What are you doing?" Start now, right? " I say. "I do not know ..." Again fixed his eyes open and large windows. The first time, well ... the second, it ... but when he has already spent about one hour ... then .... I start to upload and Nosecuantos nosequé ... I already lost and not me ....
We aim to Kumon method to language because his mother was dogged with the subject, I do not know if you've heard of it. I had no very clear that it's worth, a system that is based on giving some cards with little pictures and text to complete within a limited time ... but what puts a woman in the head ... is carried out even stepping over anyone. So I spent a few months, until she herself became convinced that only served to further hate Hugo tasks, seeing it as a chore to add the rest of the duties carried home to School. Why can not miss it, had to make the booklet every day ... 365 days !!... rain or heat did ...
Then he thought he needed was a speech pathologist to study the child in case you have a learning problem. No sooner said than done. Was discharged from the Kumon buck that after we left the money ... and took him to a specialist. Nor was I quite agree with it, but above idem ... We are still waiting to receive us his grace to share with us his diagnosis. The case is that of course starts today, Hugo has changed little. Moreover seriecito for your stuff ... remains confused and disorganized, but bueeeenooo gradually ..... I do not get upset (much) when I'm with him doing homework, because at least appreciate that puts interest in what he does ... Makes homework with help, but seems to be leaving with things ... He hopes that in this second evaluation things better than the first, where he stopped speaking and other subjects from enough, some good and remarkable in religion (the subject boiler lifetime
....)
came the day to deliver the notes and that day I went to pick them up at school. Victor first came to see me pitanto came to me with an envelope in his hand where it was suspected that the sheet of notes. It was. I opened it with my son's face and smile expectantly that filled his face, around moments later in tears. The boy waited most outstanding of which took. Although his grades were frankly good, was down a couple of them to good ... I had to console him saying he was very good ... is that there is no responsibility to spend ...
Hugo arrived at that moment. A leisurely pace, with the hood of the coat hanging from his head, like it's a coat, backpack dragging on the ground .... What a figure is made ... I asked him about but chose to open it himself. She looked uneasy as he revisited his notes with serious face. "Damela Hugo", she told me ... But neither case. "What give me the deaf," returned to insist ... In reviewing the notes ... Go disappointment !!!... Two suspended. In math and language. Besides that I had downloaded almost all except religion, which had risen (outstanding). During the way back home, walking ... it was like a funeral. Among Victor, with the eyes out, which more than one mother asked him what was wrong ... do think that the culprit of her tears was me for having thrown the anger, and Hugo seriously, without saying a word, behind my step and I thoughtfully and disappointed .... Box often!.
At home his mother was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the kids with the "good news ".... it was bad ... I sat in a chair Hugo took both hands firmly but gently. I looked into your eyes and said in a serious but slow, which was very sad about the notes, which if followed well, would have to repeat the year. I read the comments made her guardian, in which he said he had many problems with reading and math, it was not enough to achieve the objectives of the year. Not attending class, annoyed the fellow ... His eyes turned glassy. I gave him a hug and a kiss. Had understood the message, or so interpreted.
The next morning, Saturday. After breakfast, stop by your room. There he sat at his desk, doing homework ... Only. Without me to tell anyone.
Every child is different, Hugo is slower than other children in her class, is less mature, more childish ... but I have full confidence in him and I know I'll be very proud of him in the future ...
My Generation Z is updated with new articles of Tuesday and Friday. .
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