Why do I feel, whenever I walk into Henry’s room to discover my sweet lad has finally given in to precious, precious slumber — why do I have the urge to pump my fist in the air and sing “we are the champions, my friend” at the top of my lungs? I’ll tell you why: KID IS A WARRIOR.
I don’t know why, after so many years of being Henry’s mama, that it is just now occurring to me that not only is Henry strong-willed (duh!), but that he’s the strongest willed of the Balducci boy bunch. Which is saying a. lot. A whole stinking lot.
Sometimes I feel sheepish about this fact. Y’all, mama ain’t gonna lie. Somedays, I am seriously whipped at the end of the day. Not just from reminding the boys that we don’t use that word (insert word, use your imagination. No, no, not *that* bad, back it up a bit, okay forward just a little…yes, *that* word), reminding them of proper language and tone and facial expression, but also just a whole host of other things. It’s parenting at its finest and it ain’t fer sissies. I get worried that we’re going to have a reputation as being wild and wooley (get! Ha! As in, that might happen in the future as opposed to it already happened!), but you know, that’s just life among human beings. People know you and love you and also know your warts. They don’t really love your warts (gross) but they understand everyone has them.
So yes, strong-willed children are totally living here in my home. And in particular, I’d like to offer some encouragement which is: if you have middle school boys, don’t be afraid. You aren’t crazy. This is super-duper challenging. Take courage my friend. And don’t lower your standards. Fight the good fight. Maybe pick your battles, but also don’t pick your battles based on the trajectory of their head whipping back on the hinge of their upper neck. Yes, I did ask you to unload the dishwasher. No, I don’t think it’s as bad as all that.
When Paul was a little boy, as the story goes, he once rode his bicycle into a tree. He was just learning to ride his bike and he finally got a nice little coast going and low and behold a daggum tree just appeared out of nowhere and totally ruined his ride by getting in his way. Paul was so mad, this wee little young boy, that he stood up from where he had been thrown off the bike, picked up that bike and threw it on the ground. He would get so mad, his mother would tell him, that he had a blood vessel that would pop out of the center of his forehead and bulge and just sit there raging, probably waiting for his dear mother to help him calm his bad self down.
This man is the father of my children. His DNA is contributing to our sons and it’s cool, I’m good, but man some days I have to remind myself that this too shall pass. We have all had moments like this. My mom has an entire arsenal of stories about that little imp Rachel the Toddler. And now that I’m such a mild mannered, quiet and gentle lass, it’s nice to know that all this will be behind us one day.
Right?
oh, wait. Rats.
In other news, I was on ClearVoice! I just now found this interview. So fun!
I like Dr. Ray’s thoughts on this. His child is strong-willed but that boys mama is stronger-willed!
Amen!! I need to remember that.
Rachel, you have the best hair ever. I know that’s off-topic, but it had to be said.
dorian, you are so sweet. And here I’ve been worried that I should cut my hair. I read an article the other day about women over age 40 not having long hair…
I love everything from the title of this post to the “middle school boy” truth-telling…fight the good fight is right!
Thanks. You inspire me with your honesty so much, helps me do the same!
This might be a self-fulfilling prophesy since the meaning of the name Henry is ‘Home ruler’ – you done did it to yourself!
At least I’m no longer battle two of them. Because Enzo means the same thing!
One of my friends has four boys and a daughter. As her second, third, and fourth boys approached middle school, she declared that he was tougher than the one before, who had merely helped her prepare for his younger brother… perhaps this, too, is your fate.
My own children have come in two types – two of their father’s mindset and three of mine. The two boys following in my tracks have been the hardest for me to handle; fortunately, I understand the way their brains work just a little better.
My mother-in-law, who knew me as a teen and, of course, raised my husband, once listened to me complaining about my stubborn children. She burst out laughing and reminded me that they all came by their stubbornness honestly. She was right.
Thanks for this, meg. I do have to remind myself that a) they get this from us (more or less) and b) if we made it to the other side, they will too. xo
I have those boys, too. I just keep reminding myself that strong-willed as a child will hopefully mean that they will be men of principle when they are adults. Hopefully.
Amen! I totally meant to add something like that to the end of this post. As in: daddy turned out pretty good, and actually has like, zero temper. Maybe they are getting it all out of their systems now!
I love when you say– It’s parenting at its finest and it ain’t fer sissies.
You are right about so much but what strikes me (or maybe that was in the last post) is that as you have older kids who have later bedtimes and need “more”, there is really no “break” and sometimes we all just need that! I find that I hardly have 5 minutes alone with my husband anymore (we have 6 children ages 14 to 5)! We do make time for dates, but even that has been rare lately.
I recently went shopping in the pm when my husband was home. I thought I would just go by myself, get it done peacefully, and get home. But three kids were begging to go. So I thought, why not? It seemed kind of nice to have a little company instead of being all alone. Well, as we rounded the 14th aisle in the store and I heard for the 500th time, “Can we get this or that or those?”, I remembered why I wanted to go alone! Sometimes it is good to be alone! We all might need that break sometimes just to refresh and relax so we can be that loving, joyful mamma that our children need.
It’s true. I think that’s why I have more of these kinds of posts in summer. There just isn’t built in “me” time, which is hard. I don’t do a good job of finding that time for myself during the summer and I start to suffer by the end.
Older kids need us just as much, but in different ways. My kids range from 10 to 20. And last week I had to do battle with a 10yo who thinks I should not ask him to pick up someone else’s mess. So I stopped washing his laundry. I am more stubborn than a 5th grader, thankyouverymuch. It worked…sort of…now all I have to do is threaten to stop washing his clothes again and he immediately snaps into action.
I think the younger kids try to take advantage of the tired parents. At least that’s how it works around here. I have to keep pushing myself to be consistent. It pays off, but it really is a push!
That’s totally awesome Barb. Beat him at his own game.
Rachel,
Just finished watching your video. I told aunt Ginny, Iremember her when!!!Keep up the good work.
Uncle Bob
Aww, thanks Uncle Bob! That means a lot.