From the time we brought him home from the hospital – all fresh and pink, warmed in blankets and cute hats with ears – my Rowan has been a fiercely independent and adventurous soul.

My hippie mama heart shattered when he refused to be worn in the beautiful slings I was gifted. It broke further when I wasn’t able to nurse. I nearly split in two when he slept more soundly in his crib than next to my bed. I knew from those early days of putting him in his small infant chair that he wanted to see the world on his own. He wanted to do things on his own terms. It’s a spirit that I admire so much – there is so much of his father in him.

But the independence and ferocity of his personality inevitably led to rough patches of behavior. He pushes my buttons and likes to cross boundaries. He’s rough and tumble, not much phases him, even the sound of my stern voice instructing him to make a better choice.

When we started the discipline route, I was certain that his stubborn personality was going to require a firm, steady hand of control. I was certain that gentleness would not work on my son. I knew him best, after all. I was certain that I had him figured out.

Nothing was working. He thought my method of discipline was funny, and his responses were making me even more frustrated. More misbehavior, more ignoring and bigger tantrums than ever. Something had to give.

That’s when I finally dropped to my knees one day when he blatantly disobeyed. I did it right next to him. Just sat down. I looked at him in the eye & gently asked him to listen to mommy. I said no, and I meant it. He immediately stopped what he was doing (climbing the bookshelf), stuck his lip out & gave a little whimper. He threw his arms around me and laid his head on my shoulder as if to say “I’m sorry.”

He ran to get his firetruck. He hasn’t climbed the bookshelf since.

I’m learning as I go, that my gentleness and willingness to draw near to my child when he is at his worst consistently draws out the best response. I realize that not every kid responds this way, but it does my gentle heart so much good to know that despite his ferocity, intelligence and independence, he’s got a piece of his mama in him, too.

He responds to loving touch. He responds to a drawing-near. We are so alike.

I don’t know if this style will last long, or if it’s just a phase. But I’m going to step into it and embrace it for as long as I can. Hopefully, for years and years to come.