To The Mom Raising the Wild Child, There is Hope

Wild Child

Friends raising the wild child,
The strong-willed one,
The “he’s just a boy,”
The “what a fun, sassy girl,”
The “it’s just a phase,”

I see you.

We are raising two, one who has six behavioral diagnoses and one with an attitude far beyond her four short years.

The days seem long and the hours until bedtime feel like they pass like molasses in Antarctica on a crisp January morning.

The nights are riddled with wake-ups and what if’s, needing drinks of water and just one more story, meltdowns and moments of sheer exhaustion.

These are the kids who wear superhero and princess costumes just because it’s Tuesday,

who can remain in a deadlock stare down for HOURS over their stance on not finishing their peas,

whose tantrums are perfectly timed at church, during weddings, and in the checkout line where every grandma within a 100 mile radius is waiting to remind you that you’ll miss this one day.

Friend, these kids are
room-wreckers and reality checkers,
fire-tongued and fierce leaders,
Wild-hearted and world-changers.

They can argue like a prosecutor when you just wish they’d say, “yes mama” and move on.

But, sister, they will use those skills to stand up for themselves, for the people they love, and for perfect strangers because injustice doesn’t live in their world.

These littles who will proudly go to bed without dinner before they give in to our demands will one day be the voice for the marginalized, standing strong for those who cannot or will not speak for themselves.

We are raising kids who give us gray hairs and little sleep, but one day they will give others hope.

We are bringing up tiny people who
won’t take ‘no’ for an answer,
who know what is right and what they want, who aren’t afraid of adversity,
who could teach a crash course on resilience,
who love intensely, fight fiercely, and who truly and honestly don’t give a rip what anyone else thinks because they have a job to do.

Friend, it can feel TOTALLY impossible to even make it to supper when we are just trying to outlast these brutal little personalities one day at a time.

I feel you. I do.

But right now, amidst a country in chaos with people in pain, I hope I can try to focus on the impact my little firecrackers might make one day because, if I’m sure of anything, it is that my wild kiddos don’t give one single crap what the multitudes might think.

They WILL make a difference and no one can tell them otherwise.

And, for that, I am so grateful.

***

This post originally appeared at The Mama on the Rocks, published with permission. 


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Brynn Burger
Brynn Burger is the creator of The Mama on the Rocks blog and social media community. She is a writer, speaker, and coach to parents of extreme children, fellow and future Roadschoolers, and folks looking to simplify their lives to reclaim the joy-filled journey we’re meant to live.