A big thanks to Lisa DeBusk for today’s guest post!

Bad sleeper. Shy. Clingy. A follower. Smart. Imaginative. These are just a few of the labels I’ve used on my child. I’m starting to realize they’re just words and have nothing to do with who he is.

Every new parent has sleepless nights. Some of us have sleepless years. My son woke every twenty minutes or so in the beginning months, then he woke every hour for a while, and now that he’s three he occasionally sleeps through the night. Occasionally. He hasn’t taken a regular nap since he was two and a half, though as I type this he’s snoozing on the couch beside me at 6:00pm. He won’t be sleepy at bedtime tonight, and I’m ok with that.

Since Henry was born, I’ve fought off and on to get him on some kind of regular routine of sleeping and waking, and nothing I’ve tried has come remotely close to working. All the advice, all the parenting books, all the efforts have changed nothing about his sleep patterns, probably because he really doesn’t have a pattern. He resists routine and structure, despite what everyone says about all kids needing structure. I’ve accepted this about him and stopped fighting it.

Accepting that Henry doesn’t respond well to forced bedtimes and naps is just part of being this particular child’s mother. I know plenty of other children are put to bed wide awake and drift off to sleep on their own after a story and a lullaby, and some nights I would love for it to be that easy. But I’m ok with reading three or four books, improvising several stories on the spot (my son is only happy if I make up a new story every time, about characters with goofy names he creates), and singing three songs over and over while he lies on top of me, rubbing and sometimes scratching my arms. There have been several nights when this was absolutely not ok, and I even lost my temper a little while waiting for him to go to sleep. When I finally accepted that this was not going to change, that Henry was not suddenly going to make things easier for me just because I wanted him to, I made peace with it. He’s not a “bad sleeper.” He sleeps just fine. Not falling asleep exactly when and how I want him to doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with the way he sleeps.

I try not to call Henry “shy” or “clingy” in front of him, but I’m guilty of telling other people that he is. When I think of him as shy, it’s only because I’m comparing him to other children who are comfortable with running up to strangers and having a conversation. I was never that kind of kid, and Henry doesn’t need to be either. If he’s “clingy,” it’s because he’s three years old, and three-year-olds happen to love their mommies quite a bit. I love that he clings to me. When I find myself thinking of him as “clingy,” it’s a sign that I need a little break, some time to myself. I don’t always get a break, but that’s not my son’s fault.

Henry tends to choose one kid on a playground and follow that kid around, doing everything he does. Usually the kid is a bit older, but not always. He’s followed toddlers around, even pretending to cry when they do. I don’t know why he enjoys doing this, and perhaps I’ll never know, but I’ve stopped viewing it as a bad thing. Following other kids around is just what he enjoys, as simple as that.

The last two adjectives at the beginning of my post don’t seem like bad labels, but they can cause as much damage as the others. I know overpraising can lead to some less than desirable results, such as having a child who doesn’t try new or challenging things because he wants to maintain the “smart” label. I try to resist calling him smart for every little thing he does. Remaining neutral is usually the best option, but it’s also natural for a parent to praise her kid. Children probably have the best chance for a good life if they have parents who accept them as they are without labeling any of their actions as either “good” or “bad.” No, that’s not good enough. I don’t think it’s enough to merely accept the way our children are. Instead, everyone is better off if we allow ourselves to love the way our children are, even when it causes us inconvenience, disappointment, or concern. It all comes back, as always, to unconditional love.

Lisa DeBusk is a mom, piano teacher, and writer. She writes about parenting, religion, health, culture, and politics. You can find her writing about gentle parenting at Soulful Parenting.