Describing the journey with my eldest son feels like navigating a complex labyrinth. Even using the word “journey” fills me with guilt because he embodies everything I envisioned in a child. I’m incredibly grateful to be his mom. He’s an extraordinary whirlwind of energy, darting through our home, infusing our lives with joy, laughter, and the occasional broken vase.
Yet, if I’m honest, his vibrant spirit can be utterly depleting — bone-tired exhausting. All day, I find myself in a constant back-and-forth, my will meeting his, like iron clashing against iron. When the sun sets, I collapse into bed, feeling like a worn-out version of myself. No amount of activities seems to drain his energy. Getting him to sleep resembles the challenge of bathing a cat — a dramatic spectacle every night. He simply isn’t tired.
To complicate matters, I struggle to find effective ways to discipline him. When I’m strict, it often backfires. When I offer him a little freedom, he sprints six miles ahead. He embodies scrapes and bruises from his outdoor adventures, zooming through life at full speed, all day long. And there I am, two steps behind, panting from the chase and shouting for the umpteenth time, “Get down from there right now!”
Many of our exchanges feel filled with noise and frustration. I set a boundary, and he whizzes right through it. It’s a relentless tug-of-war over control, and honestly, most days, he’s the one pulling ahead. I often feel like a frayed rope on a tire swing, swinging higher and faster, and it frightens me to think I might snap.
How can I continue this parenting journey when everything he does feels like a subtle act of defiance? What will happen when my last reserves of patience spill over? Just yesterday morning, I prayed for the strength I need to nurture this incredible child. I asked for guidance to bridge the gap between the chaos and calm, the noise and silence. “God, please, help me navigate this.”
Later that evening, while flipping through photos from our recent trip, I stumbled upon this gem: my son, my spirited child, joyfully playing in the waves with the energy of a thousand suns. He is my King Leo. His world — our world — is a realm of untamed adventures. The moment he entered my life, a delightful uproar began.
As I gazed at that vibrant little soul captured in the photo, I felt a gentle whisper in my heart — a response to my morning plea.
Those ocean waves? They are both stunning and wild. They dance and crash, and while it may seem chaotic from the shore, there’s a quiet force at work underneath. Just like the moon’s pull on the ocean, there’s a dynamic at play between a mother and her son.
In that single picture, I was reminded that my role is to simply be present. To remain calm and steady amidst the storm. To oversee the beautiful chaos without trying to tame it, but rather guiding it gently into order.
Moms, we will never fully tame the sea. So let’s give ourselves and our children a little grace. There is a place for both the calm and the wild in this world, and both serve a purpose.
So today, I’m taking a step back. I’ll embrace the crashing waves and acknowledge the incredible beauty that lies within my wild-hearted child. Will you join me in this perspective?
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Summary:
Navigating the parenting journey with a spirited child can feel exhausting, yet it is also filled with beauty. This article reflects on the challenges of raising a strong-willed son while recognizing the importance of remaining calm and present. Embracing the wildness within children allows for a more fulfilling parenting experience, encouraging parents to give themselves grace and appreciate the unique energy their children bring to their lives.