I recall attending a playdate eight years ago when my first child was a toddler and I was expecting my daughter. I had already encountered various parenting challenges. The disappointment of struggling with breastfeeding weighed heavily on me. I was puzzled when, at a year old, my baby still wouldn’t sleep through the night. And don’t even get me started on potty training!
But when it came to behavior and discipline, I thought I had it all figured out. My child sat quietly in another mother’s home, flipping through books, stacking blocks, and calmly rolling toy trains along their tracks. He never dreamed of climbing on furniture or throwing toys around.
However, many other kids were a different story. I watched with pursed lips, shaking my head at their antics. How difficult could it be to manage your child? Why would you let them leap off the couch or tackle a little girl who was simply arranging her dolls? What was wrong with these children? What was wrong with their mothers?
A few months later, my daughter was born and, like her brother, she was well-behaved and relatively easy to manage. I had seen my share of unruly girls over the years, yet I maintained my high ground on my parenting pedestal, convinced that my children were the model of good behavior.
Then, life threw me a curveball in the form of my third child—a boy who would challenge everything I thought I knew about parenting.
From the moment he began to walk, it was clear. When I attempted to read him a story and he flung the book at my head, I understood. When I found him stacking stools to snatch cookies from the counter, it was clear. Karma had come back around to teach me a lesson.
A Heartfelt Apology
Here’s my heartfelt apology to the mothers of what society often labels as “wild children.” I now comprehend the struggle of having a child who seems unable to control their energy or volume. I understand the judgmental stares from strangers when my child climbs out of the shopping cart or knocks over cans in the grocery aisle.
I’ve learned the frustration of needing to sit in the back of church for a quick exit, while my older two could sit quietly for an hour. My youngest, however, prefers to stroll up and down the pews, blissfully ignorant of the concept of whispering.
He’s the child who goes up the slide backward. He’s the one who cuts in line to get first dibs on cupcakes. He’s even the reason why your grandmother’s prized vase might end up shattered on the floor. (Please, no invitations if your house is filled with fragile items.)
I vividly remember being in the pediatrician’s office for his three-year checkup. He had been climbing on and off the examination table repeatedly, tearing apart the sanitary paper and plotting how to turn the chairs into a game of The Floor is Lava. The doctor noticed my dismay and reassured me, “It’s perfectly fine. He’s a healthy, energetic little boy.”
What? After raising two children who were mature and obedient, I was baffled. How could he act without a hint of awareness regarding consequences? The pediatrician explained that young children, like teenagers, often engage in behaviors without fully understanding the repercussions. It was a lightbulb moment; I realized that my son’s brain simply operated differently than his siblings’.
Lessons Learned
Through this experience, I’ve learned that he’s not a bad child—he’s just exuberant. When he swings a toy light saber, he’s not being aggressive; he’s inviting you to play. If he cuts in line, it’s not out of malice, but rather seizing an opportunity. Often, he’ll grab two cupcakes and share one with your child.
I now understand that mothers of spirited children are doing their utmost. We discipline, we strive, and we adapt. My son cannot sit still for an hour, let alone five minutes, which is why he roams during dinner instead of remaining seated. I’ve learned to set realistic expectations. A couple of books and a sticker sheet won’t suffice to keep him entertained. For every “no” I give his siblings, I’ll say it five times more to him.
I’ve made it clear to those around us that if they ever give him caffeine, they should consider our relationship over.
This third child has revolutionized the way I parent. Now, when making plans, I evaluate the environment—will there be space for him to run, move, and be loud? If not, it’s likely not a good fit. That’s perfectly fine. He has plenty of time to learn about quietness and stillness. For now, he’ll continue to build couch forts, leap off furniture, and embrace life with unrestrained enthusiasm—while I embrace my ever-growing gray hairs.
Final Thoughts
In the end, I’ve learned that parenting isn’t a one-size-fits-all approach. Every child is unique, and so are their needs. For more insights on navigating the journey of family planning, check out this helpful resource on intrauterine insemination.
Summary: This article explores the transformation of a mother’s perspective on parenting energetic children after experiencing the challenges of raising her spirited third child. She reflects on her initial judgments of other mothers, her journey of understanding her child’s unique behavior, and the lessons learned about parenting with empathy and adaptability.