My Wild Child

I want to share this great blog post I just read on written by Kristen from Abandoning Pretense. I read it and a lot of the things Kristen wrote made me feel like she pulled those thoughts right out of my brain.

What You Don’t Know About That Wild, Unruly Child

“When you pass out your child’s birthday party invites, he’s the kid you’d just as soon not invite. At soccer practice, he’s the one on your child’s team who makes you think, why do his parents even bother bringing him? He’s obviously not interested. At the grocery store, he’s the brat who makes you think, his parents need to learn to control their kid. But there are some things you don’t know about that wild, unruly child…” read more

I have a wild child. She’s impulsive and aggressive and loud. She can be irritating and sometimes goes too far in social situations. And my heart breaks for her when she isn’t invited to the parties and she tells me she just wants to be with her friends (who don’t always want to be with her). She wants to play sports because she wants to be with her friends, but she isn’t interested in playing; she cries at the practices and stares off into space during the game. Or she is so focused on the kids around her – trying to start a conversation with them, to hug them – that she forgets she’s supposed to be playing a game.

I was in the grocery store a few weeks ago with both kids. They were both acting crazy, especially my wild child, and I kept getting these looks. You may know them. You may give them to other moms. That out-of-the-corner-of-the-eye look. The condescending, judging look that says, “Why can’t you control your kids. My kids would never behave that way in public.” Well, I was getting the look. And in the very last aisle, I lost it and yelled. This old lady was standing there squeezing loaves of bread and she gave me a harsh look, like I was monster to yell at my kids like that. So what did I do? I gave her the alpha female stare down, of course. I looked her in the eyes and just stared at her until she not only dropped her eyes, but stopped squeezing bread and left the aisle. I don’t feel bad about it, ’cause lady, you have no idea how frazzled I was.

Parenting a wild child is demanding and draining. And that wild child is still only a child. She’s not a bad kid; she just hasn’t figured out how to control herself yet. She doesn’t always understand why something she wants to do is inappropriate or rude or dangerous. Give her a break. Give her mom a break. And unless you’re going to smile at me and give me that conspiratorial wink that says you understand, keep your looks to yourselves!


4 thoughts on “My Wild Child

  1. As I read your post and Scarymommy, all I could think about was a girl on my swimteam that I coach. She is all those things, and after reading this, I feel that at those moments when shes not swimming, its not because she doesn’t want to, its because she truly is distracted, but does so desperately want to please us and fit in.

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