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Challenge: Stretched Too Thin

I called poison control: A tale of the wild child

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I called poison control.

Yep, that smiling girl, my wild child, is taking years off my life. I look like I’ve been run over by a freight train, yet the toddler who sprayed and doused herself in pet stain remover thinks life is just peachy.

I snapped this picture after a hour of frantic calls to my husband, the pediatrician and poison control, sprinkled with tears and sobs, and then laughter…and more tears.

Not to worry, she’s just fine.

But this girl will give me a run for my money.

That’s the thing about the wild child. They may have you pulling your hair out, or turning it grey, but this strong-willed child will move mountains someday.

Surely you know one, maybe you are raising one.

It’s the toddler who’s doing flips off the furniture, no fear in sight. It’s the child who defiantly says no, testing your patience and last nerve. It’s girl who laughs after you hang up with poison control.

Yes, that wild child may make you frazzled and exhausted, yet keep you up at night with stress.

But that same spirited child will change the world.

That ‘will not take no for an answer’ personality will help her soar in life.

She’s strong.




Yes, that wild child may be fierce, but she will change the world. And through my mascara streaked eyes, I can’t wait to watch it unfold.

A version of this originally appeared at

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