Spirit Children and Spirited Children Are NOT The Same Thing

If you ask any parent what raising their kid(s) was like, you'll likely get a different answer. Even if they have multiple children, it's probably not the same experience. Because every child is unique. In other words, every child is a a pain in the ass in their own way.

Sometimes, raising kids is almost effortless. They fool you into thinking that you can do this again! (And then the second child is almost always the exact opposite of their older sibling.) My oldest was like this. I thought that all children were as well behaved and this was normal, which was probably a good thing because not only was I young, I really had no idea what the hell I was doing. I raised my first child mostly on instinct with a strong dose of "winging it".

And then my daughter was born.

The quintessential wild child, she had no problems getting in trouble and pulling her older brother into it. She was energetic, enthusiastic, and like 14 other synonyms that mean "full of energy that is drains the energy of the parent, much like a host feeding a foreign parasite". She managed to give me a few breaks (She would try any food at least once and I barely remember potty training her because she was so easy.) but mostly, she was a fireball. She was nothing, however, compared to my youngest child.

In all my life, I have never met a child who has such a strong will, a strong opinion, from such an early age. He has been a thumb sucker from the age of brand spanking new baby. As much as I discouraged this, pushed pacifiers, pulled his thumb out of his mouth, he was determined to be a thumb sucker. He didn't let being born 9 weeks premature stop him, achieving all of the normal milestones at his own pace. He's stubborn, funny, and has the iron will of someone who is 5 times his age.

And he's freaking exhausting.

Have you ever hear a parent say, 'If he wasn't already the last one, he'd be the last one?" If so, chances are they have one of these freakishly stubborn, steel will forged in the fires of Hades, everything is a battle kinds of kids. Half the time I wish he had born to a much younger me, one that wasn't tired all the time and that could navigate these parenting minefields with one eye closed. The other half is grateful that there are 3 kids worth of experience in front of him because steering that ship through those choppy waters is much easier with all the knowledge I possess of his fore siblings. And believe me, there are plenty of rough seas to travel through with a spirited child. From picky eating (the pickiest) to weird quirks (like a sock fetish, even in summer) to melt downs over the most minute things (What do you mean I can't live in pajamas and have to wear real clothes every day? WAHHHH.) he has made my navigational skills on point.

He's not a feral child, which is ( I gather) the new term for wild child. He's more like an 80 year old man trapped in a 5 year old's body. He's always cold (probably explains the sock fetish), he has a rigid routine that he does NOT like to deviate from, and he complains if it's too loud. Conversely, his brother is a menopausal woman trapped in an 11 year old's body: Always hot, loves sweets, and enjoys Netflix way too much. (Which is just proof of how different two siblings can really be.)

Yet you aren't allowed to complain about raising children in today's day and age. As soon as you mention how exhausting it is to have daily battles with your kids to get dressed, someone manages to chime in with some trite saying like, 'One day you'll miss these days. Enjoy it while you can." Is there some unwritten rule that says we can't complain about the trials of child rearing without being made to instantly feel guilty that we aren't enjoying it? Let me ask you Donna, do YOU enjoy doing things that make you doubt your parenting skills and leave you frustrated and on the verge of tears? No Donna, I don't think you do. So instead of making me feel like some leper mother for daring to mention how hard parenting actually is, why don't you give me some emotional support. Say something useful like, "Some days are tougher than others. You'll get through it." Or maybe even, "Yeah, kids can be real assholes sometimes. Wanna go for a pedicure?"

So for all my fellow parents of those spirited-borderline-feral children, I feel you. I know your pain. I know your daily struggles, how many times you have wanted to cry (and didn't) and how many times you wanted to cry (and did!). So I just want to say, "Kids can be real dinks sometimes, wanna go for a margarita?"