I was recently asked by our pediatrician whether it is difficult to have a two children on "such opposite ends." I told her "Yes, but probably not for the reasons you'd think." The thing is, it's really difficult question to answer. First off, I'm not sure they are such opposites. Yes, Itai is talkative, imaginative, funny and he's really smart, but I'm not sure that Avi isn't those things...except for talkative.
Other than that, the best I can do to answer her question is to give a day of our lives as an example.
It's 4:26 in the morning. I slowly become aware of a sound. In my sleepy daze I cannot place it, but gradually I recognize it as a child laughing hysterically. I open my eyes to realize Avi's light is on. He comes bounding into the room and jumps in the bed with me. I'd like to sleep for another 5-10 hours, but that is not to be. Itai will sleep for another two hours if left alone and I know it. Avi keeps laughing. I feel beleaguered by the continued hysteria over something I don't see or hear. Frustrated, I decide to get out of bed. In this moment it is difficult.
It is 4:32 and I am feeling frustrated and about to get out of bed. Just before I get up Avi pulls my arm so I stretch it out. He puts his head on it, then rolls over and cuddles up against me, giving me a big, warm hug. I change my mind about getting out of bed, for the moment at least. Suddenly, Avi is quiet and very snuggly. In this moment, it is not difficult.
It is 6:14 and I'm back downstairs after my shower. As I sit on the couch next to Avi he says in that Avi specific accent, "Halllooo!" He sits right next to me and rests his head on me. I say hello back and he smiles at me before giving me another hug. In this moment it is most decidedly not difficult.
It's 7:00 and I force Itai to get out of bed. He looks a lot like I must have when Avi came into my bed. His eyes struggle to open and he looks at me as if to ask why I have ruined his deep sleep. I give him a hug and he says, "Abba, I love you the mostest." In this moment it is not hard.
It's 4:00 p.m. and we are on our way to Avi's speech therapy appointment. I mention that Avi's birthday is coming soon and we need to figure out what kind of present he would like for his birthday. Itai reminds me, "Avi will be seven on his birthday." I tell him, "Yes, he will be." Itai asks me, "When Avi is seven, will he finally learn to speak." I admit that I don't know, but tell him that Avi has already begun to speak and he'll probably get better and better at it. In that moment it is difficult.
After speech is over we head home and get dinner ready. Avi and Itai are starving and start circling the kitchen like sharks who have caught the scent of their favorite meal. Itai as usual asks to help me, Avi sticks around to help out too, so long as there is something for him to snitch. Dinner is over and as we start to put everything on the table we hear the garage door open. Itai looks up and says, "Mommy's home!" He runs to the door and throws it open. Debbie comes into the house and gets a warm welcome from Itai. Avi makes his way over and motions to be picked up. Debbie obliges and he smiles as she holds him. Even in her arms his legs are almost down to the floor. He smiles deeply as she kisses his cheeks. In this moment it is both difficult and very, very easy.
So the answer is complicated, but the truth is it is probably differently difficult, but no more difficult than it is for other families.