Preparing.

My friend emailed me regarding my last post about my frustration with electrical plug outlet covers. She let me know that her friend put a pair of scissors in the electric outlet and dislocated her shoulder when she was four. Yikes! Thank you, my friend. I needed a real life story to scare me into keeping those things on.

I'm definitely not looking for any extracurricular injuries or electrocutions. My hands are busy applying triple antibiotic ointment and calling the pediatrician after-hours clinic. Yesterday, Ace fell head first down the kitchen steps leading to the garage. Then he dropped a log on his toe. I told him to stop pounding that log on the floor like a jackhammer.

This goes on all day. Average number of "oh, Ace, you bumped your head!" - I'm gonna say five? Sometimes ten, sometimes four. Never less than four. And always with tears and toothy, hold-me-mama cries.

Ace pushes the limits every day. He stands atop of a flight of stairs, one leg dangling in front of him, dare flashing in his eyes. That look of mischief, that look that I keep trying to ignore. That look doesn't go with my please God, give me a geek plan.

It's been there since day one. Others notice it too. I'm trying hard not to say anything about it, to draw too much attention because I feel like people grow into the words by which they are defined. If someone tells you how funny you are, more than likely you're going to think you're funny. If your parents tell you that you are wild, wouldn't you tend to be more wild?

I don't even like to talk to Chris about the look too much. But sometimes I can't help it; I want to try and figure out how we, we of all people, got this kid. A daredevil, mischievous, I-cannot-walk-because-running-is-my-only-option, gregarious child.

I know I have to let go of my dreams of him being a geek. Of us sharing the same novels and of him as a teenager staying home every weekend night. To study. And play computer games. He might indulge in Coca-Colas and Reece's peanut-butter cups since he would be staying up late - 10:30 or so. I need to stop.

Really, it's okay. Don't get me wrong, if that does happen, I will be giddy with mommy-giddiness. But I'll prepare for the story his eyes tell. I have a suspicion his story is going to be more fun anyway, wouldn't you say?

Louie is nothing like this. He's overly cautious and careful. Which is why it hurts in more than a physical way when Louie falls. He fell off a bench the other day, landing flat on his back and head. His protective reflexes are not very good and in many cases, nonexistent. Louie's head smacked the wood floor with a flat sound. Like a rock was dropped to the floor. He just lay there, a bewildered look in his eyes. He doesn't understand. No child does but to Louie, it's a breech in trust with his relationship to the world.

Louie has never bled except at the doctor's office for blood draws. His accidents are few and far between. Maybe he understands his limitations or maybe he's just scared, but either way, he doesn't take physical risks.

My life is a constant opposite, a stark contrast of light and dark, on and off, Louie and Ace. I will try my best to keep the plastic covers on the outlets, to keep the gates on the stairs closed. I pledge to not leave them alone in the tub. I will work hard to channel Ace's boundless wonder and curiosity. And push Louie to develop his. I'll tell Ace not to mimic everything he sees and jump up and down when Louie claps his hands when I clap mine.

On occasion, they come together in harmony, two notes, high and low. It's not often, but occasionally they do find calmness in being together, beside one another, maybe just to hear about what Elmo is thinking about today or about a comb and a brush and bowl full of mush for the 992nd time.

Ace is growing, developing, learning and surpassing Louie daily. It's happening right now, right this minute, today. They are wearing the same size clothing (lately, with their similar size, people always think I have twins, especially when I have them in the double stroller. It's funny how people clear the way and say "oh you have your hands full!" even though they also have two kids.). For today, they enjoy many of the same books and activities. But in terms of development, Ace is far beyond in expressive and receptive language skills. In many ways, a lot of the surpassing is behind us. I knew it would happen. I know it's happening. I am prepared.

Instead of feeling upset about missing these milestones with Louie, we like to tell ourselves that Ace is just exceptional and amazing in his human development skills. We really believe this so please, I beg you, don't burst this bubble.

Ace sometimes mimics Louie's unusual behaviors like covering his ears and yelling "eeeee". However, he quickly gives up and often stares at Louie like "I don't understand you, I sure can't figure you out but you are pretty much the coolest person I have even laid eyes on. Ever. Ever."

He still follows Louie everywhere. He likes to wear Louie's wrist sweatbands that he uses to wipe his drool (thanks Amy!). He pretends to wipe his drool even though he doesn't have any. Ace brings me Louie's braces to put on his own feet. I tell him to be thankful his arches are perfectly fine and that he doesn't have to wear braces but end up putting them on him for a minute anyway. Because whatever Louie does, wears, "says", is what Ace wants to do, wear and say. And so it goes with siblings.

There is something to be said for preparation. From the moment I knew I was pregnant with Ace, I knew Louie would be developmentally left behind by the unborn baby. I have been ready, armed with emotional ammunition. Bring it on developmental milestones. Bring it on.

I still have a lot of work ahead of me. As all parents, we worry about the futures of our children. There is only so much we can do to prepare. And some things, I don't believe you can prepare for at all.

There will be a day when Ace realizes that Louie is different. That he stands out from the others. Won't that moment come? How could it not? As a parent, how can I change the norm, alter the perspective so that different is beautiful and standing out is the only way to stand? I suppose that is my assignment. My preparation.