Carter is 6.
He is a boy.
He is smart.
He is funny.
And he is vivacious.

His energy quickly spreads to those around him.
And I know that one day this will be a good thing.
I know it…and yet it drives me insane.

He is a good kid.
He’s very good.
But concentration?
Impulse control?
They often elude him.

And I find myself more frustrated with him than any of the others.
As a matter of fact, just the other day I had a major parenting FAIL with him.

All of the kids were playing happily.
And it kept getting louder and louder.
In typical Carter fashion, the louder it got, the crazier he acted.
And the crazier he acted, the louder it got.
And the louder it got, the crazier he acted.
And the crazier he acted, the louder it got.
(I’m sure you can see the problem here.)

Asking them to be quiet didn’t help.
Telling them to be quiet didn’t help.
Yelling certainly didn’t help.
Especially considering what I said:
“Couldn’t you just be normal? For just one minute, couldn’t you be normal?”

Ouch!

I instantly regretted it.
He stared at me with those big eyes.
And I teared up.
Oh, come here…
We hugged.
We talked.
I said I was sorry.
And that I love him.
No matter what.

And the irony of it all is that I don’t even really want my kids to be normal.
I want them to stand out.
I want them to go beyond ordinary to extraordinary.
I want them to push the boundaries and discover new things.
I want them to stand up for what they believe in, even when what they believe isn’t ‘normal’.
I asked him to be normal, but I hope he disobeys me.
(Well, just this once.)