Yesterday afternoon my 2 kids and I hung out in the family room with laptops and open books strewn all around. Both of them were working on research papers for school, and were asking for help. In our family, I’m the go-to person for English and History and Dad’s Math and Science. My kids got lucky; after all, we could have both been losers at math…

Both of these research papers required outlines. Zach and I have worked on several of these over the years—he struggles with English and has to really sweat it out to get a B on an essay or report. Abby, my daughter, is a natural writer and finds it pretty easy to get A’s in composition.

Zach found that once he had a framework, a sort of blueprint, the rest was a piece of cake. He felt physically relieved after we worked on an outline….like a load of pressure had been lifted off his back. He said that he now knew exactly what details to look for, and wouldn’t get bogged down by all the research.

This is the kid who, when we go on vacation, wants to know The Plan each day when we wake up in the morning. The one who used to pick out his school clothes the night before and set them out. Who makes little workout charts and thumbtacks them to his wall. Who organizes his closet without being told. Who asks me in the morning what’s for dinner that night. Yes, this one likes to know where things are headed. He thrives within a structure, a framework.

Abby, though, resisted the outline. Kept asking why she had to make an outline when she knew what she had to say and just wanted to write. Said it was constraining her and didn’t feel like it allowed her to be creative with her idea flow. She kept getting up and playing with the dog, getting a snack, plunking around on the piano…..basically anything to avoid coming up with the outline for her paper. She felt hemmed in by it.

This is the child who writes poems on the back of napkins, stays up half the night painting, changes her mind 7 times a morning about what to wear, never makes plans more than an hour ahead of time. Whose room is an explosion of clothes, paintbrushes, sketch books, guitars, and odd collections. Who thrives on spontaneity and chaos.

I thought about their differences as I watched them work yesterday, my heart overflowing with empathy and love for both of them. Grateful and puzzled that they turned out so completely opposite. They are beautiful and complex human beings, and I realize that this whole parenting thing requires insight—that it’s not a one size fits all operation. God help me to really see their unique attributes, and to encourage and guide them accordingly.