The special challenge of a spirited child

Spirited.  Emotional. Extra. 

Whatever word you want to use, these children provide an special challenge for everyone in the family.

My first son was a dream.  As a baby he slept and smiled and only cried when he was wet or hungry.  As a toddler he was full of smiles and so agreeable to try anything.  He was flexible and such a happy little boy.  His favorite thing to say when asked if he wanted to do anything was “let’s do it!”.  We were able to travel with him to Italy for a week when he was 2 ½ years old with NO issues.  He spoiled me.

My second son was not an easy child.  He was spirited and stubborn and his emotions often seemed to overwhelm his little body.  He was also a loving and sweet little boy with beautiful blond curls who laughed often and always wanted to snuggle with me, but often there were tears and breath holding.

He was a challenge.

Early days

N was 3 ½ weeks early.  He came into the world on his own terms, in fact the doctor thought he broke my water while massively kicking one night in August 2006.  One minute I’m laying down unable to sleep with him kicking and moving around violently and the next minute my water broke and I was in labor.  No prep, no warning.  This resulted in an emergency c-section.  He may have been ready, but I apparently was not.  Look out world there was no stopping him!

N did not sleep well from birth.  He would not sleep on his back EVER.  This resulted in him sleeping in bouncy seats and his car seat every night.  We were advised to put the car seat in his crib.  Not a huge deal except in the middle of the night when you have to unstrap him to nurse.

He then moved from the car seat to a sleeping wedge and finally after almost a year of being up multiple times a night he would finally sleep through the night on his back.  Always on his own terms.

N loving the rain

Terrible two’s

These really should be called the terrible two’s, three’s and fours. 

Terrible two’s is a misnomer because unsuspecting parents think their child will outgrown the temper tantrums by three, but for many of us they were just ramping up.

The first time N held his breath, turned blue and literally passed out he was about 3 years old.  I panicked of course thinking he was having a seizure, but just as quickly as he passed out, he came to and went about his business like nothing had happened.  Tantrum over, back to his train table.  I, of course, was traumatized.  What just happened?

I immediately called his pediatrician to find out what was medically wrong with him and was told it was basically a really bad temper tantrum and that I was to just make sure he was not anywhere he would hurt his head when he passed out.  What???  How was this an actual thing that I was supposed to just roll with?

N did this maybe 4 more times.  I did my best to remain calm when it happened and frankly marveled at the sheer dedication to his tantrum.

Snacks were both my friend and bane of my existence

Granola bars and fruit leathers were the snacks of choice.  No easy to pack and eat goldfish in a little baggie for him.  “Bars” and “fruit leathers” are very easy to carry with you for a quick snack, but not so easy for little fingers to open.

Of course, he wanted to open the wrappers himself.  But he couldn’t.  Fit would ensue.

I tried tearing them a little before giving them to him, but he quickly figured this out and fit would ensue.

When he could finally get them open they would of course be broken, so fit would ensue.  You get the picture.

I was happy when he finally was old enough to open the wrappers himself without demolishing whatever was inside and without tears.

Outings

When N was 2 ½ years old we went on our first camping trip with my current husband.  We had been dating over 6 months and wanted the kids to meet each other.  We had separate camp sites, but ate together and hiked together.

We all went for a hike and let the four kids play in the waterfall and stream for some time.  Then it was time to leave and N was having none of it.  It was time for a full-out mental meltdown.  He attached himself to the railing of a bridge, wailing, and would not let go.  Who knew little chubby arms could be so strong and determined?

I made the decision to continue to walk.  I was trying some tough love.  Tim and I walked a short distance and stepped behind a tree so we could watch him and make sure he stayed safe.  N didn’t even notice us as he continued to yell and cry until he tired himself out and then wandered after us wanting a piggy back ride.  It was exhausting for all of us.

Tim always says, jokingly of course (maybe!), that N was almost the deal-breaker in our early relationship. 

There was the fit at the beach because he insisted on eating yogurt on the beach.  Shockingly when sand got in his yogurt he had a fit and stormed off down the beach.  Not even one glance back.  The beach was thankfully empty so we could see him.  He just kept going, then plopped down for a bit staring at the ocean until he decided it was time to come back.  Again, on his own terms.

This was the time period he would also decide if he wanted to participate in pictures or not, if not, he would literally turn his his head or his entire back to the camera.  We laugh so much at these photos today.

Choices

N has always gone through life full force.  To me this meant his emotions were big too.  He was frequently such a happy, smiling, rambunctious little boy- lots of laughing and playing with his big brother. They loved him in preschool and elementary school. But the other side, that was mostly reserved for me, was exhausting.

I read books, I talked to people and decided my tactic was going to be that I would comfort him if he would let me, but I would not allow his tantrums to sway what we were doing.  I would not negotiate with terrorists. I wanted to help him learn how to manage his big emotions.  I knew he would need this skill as he got older.

It was a battle of will at times in our house.  My rule was that I only made one dinner.  He refused to eat quesadillas one night with the excuse that he didn’t like cheese, despite eating it all the time. I did not make him any other food.  It was a standoff.  We all laugh about quesadilla night now.

There were the times I would have to strap him in his car seat or his stroller because I was afraid he would injure himself or someone else during his tantrums.  I would sing to him or try to talk to him calmly. I would rub his head or back if he would let me and I would wipe away his tears. He would be bucking and crying and even making himself vomit.  I cleaned vomit out of the car seat straps on many occasions.

Lessons

I think the key is to teach them that emotions are absolutely normal and necessary.  It is super important to feel all of your emotions, but we do need to learn to manage them so they don’t overtake our lives.

I’ll never forget after an elementary school event, N was frustrated by not winning and began to cry.  His best friend leaned over and said to him “wait to cry until you get in the car”.  I loved this support and advice.  We talked about how crying and feeling disappointed is natural, but at that moment he should take a deep breath and congratulate the winner -there was time to cry later if he still felt the urge.  He didn’t.

N has a red chair in his room.  When he was younger and upset this is where he went – behind the red chair. I spent lots of time hugging and soothing while letting him get his anger or frustration or sadness out behind that red chair.  As he got older I got him into counseling so he would have someone else to talk with and learn techniques from.  He used the red chair until he was about 10.  Then he just stopped.

Was my choice in tactic the right one?  Ultimately, I think so. 

It was not always an easy road for me as a parent.  But there was never a question that he was so worth all of the effort, patience, and the frustrations.  At 16 yo N is now calm and well-mannered with high self-esteem and the ability to (mostly) manage his emotions.

He now uses his red chair like all other teenagers, as a place to keep his dirty clothes.