like raising a wild monkey.....

I love my boy, I truly do!! In some ways he's the best kid in the world. He's polite (to other people) he's smart (usually smart mouthed as well), he's kind and he's full of energy!! But sometimes, he's as dumb as a sack of wet hair. Now I know that its because he's 8. Eight year old boys aren't bright. His train of thought centers mostly in the action movie that is playing out in real time in his little brain. He is gonna be the X-fighter on the motorcycle flying 500 feet in the air doing a side superman stunt. And I'll be in the crowd cheering and clapping because seriously the hopes of him becoming a doctor is loooong faded. He's to high energy. His thought process is that of Evel Knievel's! Go as hard and as fast as humanly possible and worry about the road rash when you stop. Which brings to me to hard part. Raising the fool is like trying to herd cats!! It's nearly frigging impossible!! Most nights I collapse into bed and say a small prayer to the Good Lord above that A) I managed to maintain my sanity for another day and B) Josh didn't manage to break any bones. It hurts my heart that a good punishment for Josh is to sit idle and do nothing. If I choose to punish him in that way, I also must make him sit on his hands because 2 minutes into the time out he's making warrior finger puppets and is engaged in an epic battle to win the gold! FML! Just spank him you say! Sounds reasonable, break his little spirit, see if he can fly when you've crushed his little life spark out.... sounds easy, but upon giving Josh a choice of a spanking or a time out, he will choose the spanking. Why you ask?? " Cuz if you spank me then i can go back and play... if I have to sit still I get sad!" True quote, NO LIE! Try reasoning with that! LOL

So what is a parent to do? Well I'll tell you what I'm doing! I have a stock pile of wine and vodka for the rough days of parenting. And I have learned to cherish the moments when he's calm and mellow, when he's not hell bent on breaking his neck on a quad or the dirt bug. I've learnt that Walmart jeans rip just as nicely as GAP jeans and Quicksilver shirts are just as good to cut into pieces to wipe his butt in the woods(thanks for that tip uncle Grant) as the Joe shirt. He's sported more blackeyes in his 8 years of life than I have in my whole life. He doesn't care if his socks match or that his hair smells like quad exhaust. So if he manages to wash his hands for supper, learns to read and manages to make it out of grade 3 alive, and keep all his adult teeth safely in his mouth I'm pleased as a pig in fecal matter!! I'm gonna just hunker down and ride out the growing pains. Maybe pop an ativan once in awhile to add alittle woosa in my life!! :) God Bless little boys!!