Hahaha. Just kidding. I have no idea what I'm doing with this kid, but it seemed fun to pretend for a second that I did.

Confession time: Before I had kids, there were a few terms others used that made me completely judgmental of and thought people who used them were full of poo at best and lazy at worst. One of them was "I have such a strong-willed child!" It was translated into: You have a brat, be the parent, a kid will only get away with what you allow him to.

And while there is, of course, some truth to that (with normal-willed children) I had no idea what I was talking about. I still didn't even know what I was talking about once I had my first kid. Sure, he was a typical toddler, getting into mischief and having the occasional tantrum, and sometimes refused to do what I asked, but with a little finagling, I was able to figure out how he worked and how to use that to my advantage to get him to do what I wanted him to do

Then, along came Baby No .2, who, from the beginning, was plucked out of my uterus with the sole purpose of being my life's greatest challenge. Some people get advanced degrees, some people make millions of dollars, some people climb Mt. Everest, some people save lives, some people run marathons. I raise a "Strong-Willed Child." Is there a bumper sticker for that? You can have your 26.2 on the back of your car, I'll get a sticker of my kid's face.

This child is one of those kids that would hold his breath, turn blue and die before doing something you told him to do that he didn't feel like doing at that particular moment. Most of us have certain instincts that kick in and over-power any instincts to be stubborn, like hunger, thirst, sleep, going to the bathroom, breathing, living, etc. Not my youngest child. He will forego all of the above for the sake of not doing something that wasn't his idea.

If this kid decides he's going to wear neon yellow knee-socks for the 15th day in a row, that will become the most important mission his life will ever see even if his life depends on it. Some battles I choose not to fight, like the harmless ugly socks. Basically if he wants to look like a clown I couldn't care less.

Other battles I have no choice but to fight, or die trying, because he very regularly chooses battles that aren't harmless at all. His stubbornness has landed us in the care of doctors on more occasions that I care to admit.

I can only hold out hope that once we get past this battle of wills he will use his power for good and not evil. I promise you, if there's ever going to be a person that can change the world, it's going to be because my son or another kid just like him decided that would be a better idea than going poop. His bowels might literally explode, but it's a small price to pay for saving mankind.

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