The beauty of feeling understood

My sons are lovely beautiful creatures, divinely formed and gifted with many super wonderful qualities.

There. I started off positively. That’s good, right? Thanks.

Honestly though, my oldest two sons are so trying! They are brilliant and curious and creative, but so trying. No amount of keeping up with them amounts at all to feeling like we (the parents) have anything at all under control.

We have journeyed through many different parenting strategies, have attempted to understand them through many a lenses. Even when we manage a semblance of calm at home, as soon as we journey into the world of excitement, – or even worse, allow a beloved guest to pass through the threshold of our home – things get crazy.

Music excites them. People excite them. Loudness excites them. Excitement excites them. People (aside from their parents) that they know and love seriously excite them the most. New places excite them, places without known routines excite them, places with lots of space to run excite them. And with excitement comes more and more excitement, an excitement that rarely if ever ends with a crash or feeling of satiation. An excitement filled with giggles, shrieks, potty words, saying or doing anything inappropriate that others will in some way react to, touching everything, rough-housing, running (away) and darting, frustration with parents’ futile attempts at reigning them in, the inability to be still … All that and more – it all comes.

We get lots of looks.

Some people think we are overly strict. Insisting on “yes ma’am” and “no sir” – insisting that they recite “the rules” upon arrival at any new place; enforcing time-outs for minor indiscretions, even during play dates. Hovering over them, not out of fear or need to protect, but more-so to make sure they don’t accidentally hurt someone in their sheer excitement. Others have looked at us, with concern – dare I say judgement? – assuming that they are as they are because clearly we aren’t enforcing the boundaries that they need, because we have failed as parents. And then there are the parents who don’t realize that some kids come out of the womb grunting like Hulk, spraying webs like Spidey. I’ll never forget the muttering I heard from a mom at a play cafe – “he’s so angry!” she said, after my then 2-year-old approached her son pretending to be the Incredible Hulk.

You just can’t win.

If only we could walk into new places with a visible running list of everything we have tried as parents, or of every explanation of the back story behind your kid’s current idiom, just so people know. I say that, but then I am annoyed about even caring about what others think.

My kids are outgoing, social and friendly. They have a zest for life that can be contagious when not off-putting. They have never met a stranger, and they surprise me with how intuitive they can be if they encounter kids who are shy, or sensitive, or overwhelmed. They have the keen ability to bring others out of their shells; to sweetly connect with the underdogs. Goodness I hope their care for the underdog sticks with them through puberty. There are many positives in their excitement for life; but there are also lots of major struggles at the degree of all things felt.

There a lots of parenting books out there. And when you’re a mom like me who is always seeking “the” answer, you tend to have read lots of snippets of many books hoping to find the right one.

Having recently felt very judged by a friend who felt inclined to diagnose my kids’ unbridled energy as a parenting fail, I was all the more comforted when my sweet aunt and retired fourth grade school teacher messaged me a few days after the family holiday gathering. She had seen the look in our eyes and the lessons and redirections we repeated umpteen times that night, and so she recommended the book “Raising Your Spirited Child.” Admittedly, the millennial in me was offended by its dated cover, and I was not really wanting to read yet another book that claimed to have all the answers. But I trusted my aunt, appreciated her affirming words, and took the recommendation.

Reading, I saw myself and my sons in the pages of the book. Lots of kids are energetic, social, persistent, intense, sensitive. But then there are the kids that are a little “more” energetic, social, persistent, intense, sensitive. Kids whose tantrums and moods go a little longer, are felt a little deeper. And that is the spirited child.

Tears ran down my cheeks as I read. After so many looks, it was such a relief to read and feel understood. It was such a relief that my aunt saw both our progress and our struggle. It was such a relief to read something that acknowledged the impact of degree.

So tonight, after a very spirited few weeks, I skimmed a parenting thread all about the challenges of parenting children who most likely would fall into the “spirited” category, and I was reminded of this book. I saw in the thread the comfort moms felt just in hearing from others who had similar experiences, and I recalled the comfort I felt when reading this book. I hope you are privy to similar threads, and I hope that you have a few people who understand what you’re going through. If you are feeling frustrated or are throwing up your hands at the “more” you encounter in your child, perhaps consider giving Raising Your Spirited Child a read; you just might experience a similar relief and comfort – and sometimes, that is all we need to push through.