I finally picked up a used copy of “Raising Your Spirited Child” today as my next order of reading to understand Ethan and how to parent him. Chapter one was mostly about what that word means and what such a child looks like, and how it can feel to be the parent.

Well, I was almost laughing as I read it. Ding! Ding! Ding!, my brain said to 99.9% of what I was reading, down to even the tiniest details in the examples. According to the author, 10-15% of kids are “spirited”, which she defines mainly as “MORE”. More intense, sensitive, perceptive, persistent, and energetic. DING!

I’m looking forward to reading the coming chapters – her suggestions on how to better understand my “spirited” kid. As his personality emerges more and more, I’m beginning to understand that he is, like all kids, truly unique. Taking the time to “learn” him is challenging. It would be easier to pull my hair out all day long sending him to his room or swatting his behind. But “default parenting” (my term for it) just doesn’t work on him (maybe on all kids, but definitely not on him). He is always one step ahead of ya. And its hard to even call it “misbehavior”, because I can always see more going on inside him than what meets the eye.

A tantrum is 9 times out of 10 about his frustration with not being listened to or respected. He is keenly aware of when he is being mocked or patronized by adults and has such difficulty leaving an activity for the next thing, even with clear statements of what is happening AND 10 and 5 minute “warning” AND setting the alarm to help him transition.

He sings loudly in the shower for upwards of 45 minutes (!), hardly seems to know how to whisper (I’m serious – like we try and try practicing it before heading to the library, but its like he really can’t, even in practice it rarely goes below a low voice!). He remembers things that he did when he was two years old and details about places we have seen or people he has met. He takes forever doing “simple” tasks because he will get so inundated with some new distraction that the task at hand will have long since been forgotten. He LOVES to debate, loves to talk, loves to laugh and shriek LOUDLY. He was a much more vigorous baby in utero than Verity was, and as a baby he NEVER took long naps (in fact, I once saw a chart about baby sleep patterns and his was categorized “the high need infant” lol).

But alongside all of these “challenges”, he can also be super chill, mature, funny, conversational, witty, and intuitive. He captures my heart and I “get” him the vast majority of the time.

But as you blog readers know from post after post about rearing Ethan – it is exausting. It demands an incredible amount of my presence and problem-solving and patience. As the following excerpts articulates, I usually feel 20 years older (in terms of fatigue) than I actually am – (Yes, I know all moms, even with totally chilled out kids, would say “Amen” to that!). Also, EVERY DAY I experience the feeling of predicting within an hour of being awake whether or not this will be a “good day” with him. I thought this was all parents, but maybe there is some special characteristics to this “spirited” child stuff that especially suits our situation more than I ever previously considered.

So, alas, some highlights from the book so far:

“It’s difficult to describe what it is like to be the parent of a spirited child. The answer keeps changing; it depends on the day, even the moment. How does one describe the experience of sliding from joy to exasperation in seconds, ten times a day. How does one explain the “sense” at eight in the morning that this will be a good day or a dreadful one?

The good one’s couldn’t be better. A warm snuggle and a sloppy kiss awaken you. He captures you with his funny antics… you can’t help laughing.

Profound statements roll from his mouth, much too mature and intellectual for a child of his age. He remembers experiences you’ve long since forgotten… On good days being the parent of a spirited child is astounding, dumbfounding, wonderful, funny, interesting, and interspersed with moments of brilliance.

The dreadful days are another story. On those days you’re not sure you can face another twenty-four hours with him. It’s hard to feel good as a parent when you can’t even get his socks on, when every word said to him is a reprimand, when the innocent act of serving tuna casserole instead of the expected tacos incites a riot, when you realize you’ve left more public places in a huff with your child in the last 5 years than most parents do in a lifetime.

You feel weary, drained, and much too old for this even if you were only in your twenties when your child was born. It’s hard to love a kid who keeps you up at night and embarresses you in shopping centers.

On the bad days being the parent of a spirited child is confusing, frustrating, taxing, challenging and guilt inducing.

…

You might have known since pregnancy that this child was different from other kids, normal but different. She might have kicked so hard that you couldn’t sleep from 6 months on.

…

The loud, dramatic spirited children are the easiest to spot. They don’t cry, they shriek. They’re noisy when they play, when they laugh, and even when they take a shower, singing at the top of their lungs while the hot-water tank empties…

They can skip into a room, smiling and laughing, only to depart thirty seconds later inflamed. Their tantrums are raw and enduring.

…Getting them to change their minds is a major undertaking. They love to debate and are not afraid to assert themselves…

They are easily overwhelmed in crowds by the barrage of sensations. Getting them through a shopping center, long religious service, or family gathering without losing them to a fit of tears is a major achievement.

…

They hate surprises and do not shift easily from one activity of idea to another. If they’re expecting hot dogs on the grill for supper, heaven forbid you come home and suggest going out to a restaurant. Even if it is their favorite restaurant, they’ll say, “No, I want hot dogs.”"