
It is so hard not to compare my kids to each other. I’ve gotten better, I promise, but every now and then, I still catch myself saying to my husband, “He never acted like her,” or “We didn’t have to worry about that with our older two.” Sound familiar?
We know we shouldn’t compare our children. We know we’re supposed to celebrate their uniqueness, cheer for their individual strengths, and appreciate the beautiful chaos that is parenting. And yet… when child number one gives us what feels like an instruction manual, we get understandably frustrated when child number two shows up with a completely different operating system. Turns out, parenting isn’t like baking cookies—it’s more like making soup with random ingredients you find in the fridge.
To rub it in a little more, from a scientific standpoint, using your own kids to determine what’s “normal” just doesn’t hold up. A sample size of one or two (even if they live under your roof and eat all your snacks) is just too small to draw reliable conclusions. For that, we need research, big studies replicated over time and in different environments.
So, as I navigate life with three wildly different young writers at home, I turned to the data to figure out who I should be worried about, who might just be phoning it in, and who might actually have an aptitude for writing.
Enter James Byrnes (2021), who used large studies to identify key differences between skilled and less skilled writers. Here are a few takeaways especially relevant to elementary-age children:
- Skilled writers are usually strong readers. They not only understand what they read, but they’re also good at evaluating what’s good writing and what’s… well, not. They read often and they read a variety of texts.
- They’ve mastered the basics. Handwriting, spelling, grammar, these things are more automatic for them. They also write longer, more complex sentences and use more varied structures (think- super sentence homework).
- They plan before they write. Skilled writers spend time thinking and organizing before jumping in, and they’re more likely to revise because they have a plan to stick to.
- Kids with learning differences often struggle with planning, generating content, and revising, and they’re less likely to spot what’s missing or not working in their own writing.
Now, if you’re like me, you might be reading this list thinking, “Yup, one of mine’s got it!” followed immediately by, “Oh no… the other one definitely doesn’t.” Don’t panic.
The good news is that most kids are still developing these skills—and there are clear, research-backed ways to help them grow as writers.
So, what can we do?
Practice, practice, practice. Encourage (or, let’s be honest, gently force) your kids to write often. Like any skill, writing improves with frequent, intentional practice, especially when paired with helpful feedback.
Read like it’s your job. Extensive reading is key. Read to your kids, especially books that are a bit above their independent level. Rich language, complex sentence structure, and diverse styles of writing will sink in.
In my house, here’s what that looks like:
For my six-year-old, it’s giving her paper and pencils whenever she wants to draw, then encouraging her to label her pictures and write little stories about them. I ask her to help me write the grocery list, and we make cards for friends and family. Before she writes, I have her say her sentence out loud a few times, so she goes in with a plan.
For my older kids, it’s sneaking good books into their backpacks, playing audiobooks in the car, and loading up their iPads with great podcasts. I’ll never be too busy to read their writing, help them revise, or celebrate a hard-earned good grade. I make them write lists instead of using apps, and I invite them to create persuasive presentations when they want something big, like a phone or a passport stamp. (They’re getting very good.) I also dramatically overreact to any effort they make: “Wow! Did YOU write this? Pulitzer incoming!” Because, let’s face it, motivation matters.
Here’s the bottom line:
Skilled writing isn’t magic, it’s a craft that’s built slowly, through reading, writing, and revising (with a healthy dash of parent cheerleading). Even the best authors will tell you it’s a lifelong chase.
So while it’s hard to picture my eye-rolling 11-year-old as the next J.K. Rowling or Suzanne Collins, I can see myself chasing him, with a thesaurus in one hand and a red pen in the other. Who knows? Maybe one day he’ll write a memoir titled “My Mom Made Me Write This: A Childhood of Grocery Lists, Bribery, and Adverbs.” I’d read it.







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