I have a secret to share. Admitting this is far from easy for me…
“Mom! Jake is outside. Can I go play with him?” my 7-year-old exclaimed, bursting through the front door as a swarm of insects decided to join the chaos in our living room.
“Sure, but remember to stay in the yard.”
“Why do I always have to stay in the yard?” he replied, dashing off before I could even offer an explanation.
I must confess, it’s becoming harder to keep this to myself. The more I hold it in, the more it threatens to consume me.
“Do you want me to grab dinner on my way home?” my husband texted.
“Sounds good.”
I have a secret that’s been weighing heavily on my mind, and if I don’t let it out soon, I’m afraid it will drive me over the edge.
“What do you feel like?”
“Surprise me,” I replied.
There’s a boy next door named Jake. He’s 5 years old, and he’s the epitome of what you might call a “good kid.” He’s polite, friendly, and generally agreeable.
Despite the fact that my son, Leo, shares several traits with Jake, many people don’t get to witness the wonderful side of Leo. He has a bit of what’s known as oppositional defiant disorder—a complex condition that essentially means he resists just about everything… (Ding Dong) Who could that be? Maybe if I ignore it, they’ll go away…
Not just the typical things kids resist, like brushing their teeth or eating their veggies (ding dong, ding dong). Ugh!
“Hello, ma’am, I’m from the local charity…”
When did I become a “ma’am”?
“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” I said, shutting the door.
Stupid solicitors.
Leo doesn’t just resist the mundane; he also protests things he actually enjoys, like ice cream or a trip to the movies. And when I say protest, I mean he’ll throw himself on the floor in a public place, screaming as if the world has come to an end, making me feel like the worst parent imaginable.
The hardest truth I struggle to accept is that…
“Mom! Jake wants to ride bikes, but I don’t want to!”
Oh, great.
“Leo, you don’t have to ride bikes if you don’t feel like it; you can use your scooter instead.”
“I hate my scooter!” he screamed, sounding like a howler monkey.
But he actually loves that scooter.
“Dinner’s ready. I brought home Chinese food,” his dad announced, walking in.
“No! I hate Chinese food!” Leo said, kicking the curb in frustration.
He doesn’t really hate it.
“I’m not eating that!” I left him there with his dad, contemplating how many more times he would kick that curb until it drew blood or tears.
I resent my son’s best friend, not because he’s a bad influence, but because he’s so good.
How his mother rarely has to remind him more than once to brush his teeth or pick up his toys.
How Jake will be off to kindergarten soon, sitting attentively in the front row, while my child gets isolated for “not following the rules.”
Jake won’t face rejection from peers or be labeled as a “problematic” child.
What bothers me the most about having Jake around is that it highlights all of Leo’s flaws, day in and day out.
“Mom!”
Please let it be a minor scrape this time.
“Mom! It hurts! I need a Band-Aid!”
Oh my goodness.
“Alright, I’ll get one…”
“I’ll get it!” Jake interjected, racing toward his house.
He returned with an entire box of Band-Aids, scattering them across the lawn as he dashed back.
This situation also casts a glaring light on my own shortcomings as a person and a mother, revealing my struggle to show patience towards a child who is simply being a child. I just wish my son wasn’t the one who was often viewed as the difficult one.
“Want to smash Matchbox cars?” Jake asked enthusiastically.
“Sure! Sounds fun,” Leo replied.
“Awesome! You’re my best friend ever!” Jake exclaimed.
“You’re mine too,” Leo answered with a grin.
“I am?” Jake questioned.
“Yeah, of course you are,” Leo said, beaming.
Chinese food straight from the carton has never tasted so satisfying.
This article was originally published on June 5, 2016.
For more insights, check out our post on the at-home insemination kit and look into low-tech fertility options for invaluable support. If you’re interested in statistics regarding infertility, the CDC has a fantastic resource that you should explore.
In summary, parenting a challenging child can be an exhausting journey filled with moments of frustration and self-doubt. While it’s easy to compare our children to others, it’s essential to recognize their unique qualities and embrace the journey we’re on together.