One smart cookie

My children all developed in the same womb, and as much as they are alike in many ways, their differences are numerous.

Take school, for example.

Jacob is my floater. Smart as a whip, his mind works in wondrous ways. You can almost see the gears turning, yet he floats ... Sometimes I wonder if he would register if we tested his blood pressure. He's not much of a go-getter and effort isn't his strong suit. If he put 100 percent into school, it's amazing what he could do. Instead, he puts in 10 percent -- on a good day, he might hit 20. It's been a frustrating experience, as we try to get him interested in education. He needs organization, responsibility and a little more drive. They're qualities he must attain by himself; we can only push him in the right direction. We're still trying ...

Lucas is an amazing little person to watch. He faced developmental and speech barriers that made the past five years more than difficult. We fought for him and pushed. We didn't need to. He's a fighter, a pusher and a go-getter. He doesn't like school. He'd rather just play. But Lucas does everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, at 110 percent. So, he figures if he has to go to school, then he'll put in his best effort. That means a kid who was near failing and almost held back in first grade is now cranking out an A+ in spelling, A- in math, B in reading and C in language arts. Don't believe me? Try giving him a spelling test. If he gets one wrong, he wants to go back through the entire list all over again until he gets every single one correct. I need a fraction of his drive ...

And then there's Alex. I sent Alex to school a year earlier than I normally would've. He was a fresh and eager 5-year-old. Wasn't sure if he was ready. He didn't score very high on his kindergarten test, and I was worried. Why I worry so much, I'll never know. He's taken to school like a duck to water. He loves to read. He loves to learn. He spells words in his spare time for crying outloud. And just last night, he wrote his first sentence using his sight words. Sitting at the kitchen table, he wrote, "We go to my mom's," on a teeny, tiny sheet of notebook paper. Sure the words were stacked on top of each other like blocks, but he did it all by himself. And I just beamed ...

Now, I wonder what Emery has in store for us ...

Each came from the same place. They had the same start, similar experiences and caring parents. Yet, each is amazingly different. And I'm blessed that I get to watch, document and actively participate in their lives. Thank you, God.