When Connor was really young – I don’t know how young, but young enough to still be considered an infant – I got a book from the library called Raising Your Spirited Child. My husband saw it on the stairs and gave me a funny look.
“Oh, you better believe we’re going to need that,” I assured him.
I skimmed the book and my resolve fled in fear at some of the descriptions of “spirited” behaviour. I don’t think I actually got to the how-to-deal-with-it stuff before promptly sliding it down the library’s return chute, out of sight.
I’ve thought of the “spirited child” concept many times since and I now know exactly what the author is talking about. The complete and utter meltdown because I’ve put his water in the wrong cup. The sheer determination this child shows in refusing to go to sleep easily or stay asleep once there. His spirit – unless sick – seems to know no bounds.
A Today’s Parent article about parenting the “difficult” child has me thinking about this again. “Difficult” isn’t really a word I like in the context of children and, besides, saying he’s “difficult” doesn’t really help people who don’t have difficult kids understand what’s meant by that. I do, however, like how the article’s author defines it:
First let me say that by “difficult” I mean kids who are more difficult to raise. In fact, more is the operative word here — more active, more inclined to explore (read: get into things), more emotional, more likely to question, more labour-intensive, more just about everything — apart from obeying, sleeping and playing by themselves.
This describes Connor exactly. Everyone who meets him comments on how “busy” he is. He gets into everything. He comes by his emotional nature naturally (ahem) but even I’m surprised sometimes at how immediate and explosive his reactions are. My mom once commented that he’s the type of kid who needs four parents. Let me assure you – as one of the two parents he has, I’m well aware we’re understaffed.
The “except” part of that description applies too. Obey? Not so much. And he’s not good at playing by himself – less so, even, than the average almost-three-year-old. And have I mentioned that he doesn’t sleep well? There have been times it felt like he didn’t sleep at all.
The Spirited Child book offers the same observation:
Research shows that spirited kids are wired to be “more”—by temperament, they are more intense, sensitive, perceptive, persistent, and uncomfortable with change than the average child.
“More” sums it up perfectly. Everything about Connor is “more”.
I’m a Type A and an introvert (which are not, as you might think, mutually exclusive qualities). I like to be busy, but on my terms. I like to have control over things. And at the end of the day I like to come home and decompress with a little quiet time. Having all of that and being a mom to a toddler – especially one who is “more” – do seem to be mutually exclusive. I know it comes with the territory, but it’s tough for me. Really tough.
My husband and I have always talked about how we think this side of him is a good thing. I’d much rather have a happy, active kid than one who sits there like a barnacle on a rock.
I’m starting to appreciate what this actually means. The summary of the Spirited Child book notes that spirited children “possess traits we value in adults yet find challenging in children.” Quite coincidentally, my therapist pointed this out recently too.
Connor is smart, curious, creative, active, attentive and really, really loving. I do value those qualities in him now, even if I don’t always appreciate the side effects.
I really, really hope he carries those qualities with him to adulthood, and I’m willing to do my part as his mom to support that.
