My daughter is undeniably unique. Not in the typical sense of being shy or reserved, but in a way that reflects a wild spirit. From the moment she entered this world, I realized I was in for the challenging journey of guiding my spirited child towards a more civilized existence.
Addie was one of those toddlers you see at the playground, scaling the monkey bars with fearless abandon, seemingly ready to leap into the air like a miniature daredevil. She swung so high on the swings that I imagined her soaring into the sky, exclaiming, “Weeeee!” She took to climbing as soon as she learned to crawl, scaling everything from bookshelves to counters, making our home resemble a fortress rather than a cozy sanctuary. After baby-proofing every possible hazard, our living space transformed into a makeshift prison, with heavy furniture secured against the walls to prevent her from creating chaos.
Long before she was ready for a big girl bed, we abandoned the crib. Even as an infant, I would walk in to find her perched atop the crib bars like a mountaineer at the summit. At just 8 months old, she stood defiantly in her high chair, as if declaring, “I refuse to be confined for anything!” Straps were no barrier for my little escape artist. The first time I put her in a bike seat, she looked at me with a serious expression and said, “Just go fast.”
She was the child who, upon entering a new home, would immediately seek out electrical outlets, looking for anything metallic to insert into them. In her first two years, I called Poison Control a staggering 15 times—not from negligence, mind you, as all hazards were secured. Yet, during our walks, she would reach out of her stroller, snatching plants and flowers to taste, prompting my frequent calls. I became well-acquainted with the operators, even creating a visual guide to poisonous plants to help keep her in check. Eventually, she resorted to munching on those “Do not eat” packets from shoeboxes, which, as I learned from Theresa at Poison Control, were surprisingly harmless.
Addie has had her share of mishaps; she once shoved Mexican sage up her nose, tasted a Sharpie, and broke her arm on the monkey bars. I had a leash for her and our dog during walks, and I often received judgmental looks from other parents. They didn’t realize that, like a puppy, if given the chance, she would dart toward the nearest flower bed to investigate.
She mirrors the adventurous spirit of Mowgli from The Jungle Book, drawn more to nature and excitement than to safety and order. She burst into the world quickly and loudly, and that has been her way ever since.
Her boldness extends beyond thrill-seeking; she concocts ideas that most kids wouldn’t dare to consider. For instance, at her third birthday party, she received a baby doll. While most children would cuddle and care for it, she and a few friends took it to the bathroom, where they dunked it in the toilet and rolled it in cat litter. When I walked in, I immediately recognized her signature chaos. She often instigated wild ideas, such as cutting her friends’ hair or encouraging them to unleash their inner adventurers. We’ve lost a few playmates along the way—yes, you know who you are. I hope you enjoyed the fruit basket we sent.
Much like Mowgli, Addie prefers to embrace nature, even opting to run naked through the yard in winter. If I had a nickel for every time I yelled, “Addie, put on some clothes, the mailman is here,” I would be quite wealthy.
Despite her wild nature, she is incredibly affectionate, kind, and funny. Remarkably, at age 10, she has developed a sense of caution, or perhaps common sense. While I admire her zest for life, she has given me more than a few scares. Those without spirited kids may not understand; they often attribute my challenges to poor parenting. Feel free to discuss amongst yourselves. I’m sure those with well-behaved children credit their parenting skills for their kids’ temperaments.
One of my friends recently shared her experiences, saying, “After my son, I thought I was a great mom. He was so well-behaved. Then I had my daughter.” She spoke about her daughter as if she were a force of nature. “She’s stubborn, unafraid of consequences! Nothing works!” I won’t deny it made me smile. She had the compliant child, then the wild one—and she loved them both.
She also said something profound that resonates with many parents: “Sometimes my son is so dull that I can hardly bear it. At least my daughter keeps life interesting.”
It’s not always easy, but I am grateful for my wild child. Though she may challenge me daily and surprise the delivery person, she has taught me to see life differently. Instead of fearing the risks, she embraces the potential for flight. I cannot imagine a world devoid of spirited children, the fearless adventurers, the troublemakers—they not only make life exciting but also add a wildness that is invaluable.
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Summary
This reflective piece captures the adventurous spirit of a mother navigating life with her wild child, Addie, who embodies a fearless, untamed nature reminiscent of Mowgli from The Jungle Book. Through humorous anecdotes and relatable experiences, the author highlights the challenges and joys of raising a spirited child while acknowledging the misunderstandings from those with more conventional kids. In the end, the wildness of children enriches life with excitement and unpredictability.