Everything I know about having a kid, I unlearned when I had a kid
There are book smarts and there are street smarts.
Book smarts can talk circles around street smarts... until the street smarts have had enough, then they fold the book smarts up and put them on the ground.
Such was my experience when Aston Martin was dropped into my lap and suddenly I had to raise him. (!!!)
I had spent my life studying equine behavior, anatomy, physiology, history, training theory, and spending as much time as I could with experts in the field, riding and caring for horses. Surely I was the best qualified to take on raising an orphan.
As I knew, horses are designed to live outside in a herd 24/7, have grass or grass hay as the foundation of their diet, and they grow thick winter coats if we humans don't interfere with it by blanketing them. And if they live in a herd, they will get enough exercise on their own and don't need humans to interfere with them for exercise.
(As an aside, for a healthy adult horse, *most* of the time this is true)
So I knew for sure, until I had an orphan foal. He lost 10 kilos every time the wind blew, overgrew a winter coat so that I couldn't tell how little fat covered his ribs, and basically suffered malnutrition for a month without grain after I weaned him onto grass hay at six months. Of course, since he was basically malnourished, he stood around listlessly, his young legs getting swollen from lack of lymphatic circulation.
Ms. Booksmart Mama-With-A-Microscope had to accept data from real life, from what was in front of her, to do what was best for her kid. And with blanketing in the winter, grain feed supplements, and age-appropriate activities, my special little snowflake slowly began to thrive.
This education in unlearning continued when Aston turned four. All the articles, podcasts, books, and webpages I studied on young horse training spoke to the need to be systematic, methodical, and careful in training. Young horses are unpredictable and strong, I was warned, and it is easy to mess up during the training process.
In reading through Facebook groups and talking to those around me who were more experienced, I had begun to let myself take some confidence. I worked with my foal every day, I was consistent in discipline, and gave him lots of attention. He learned wicked fast, was incredibly obedient and trainable, kind and sensitive. Surely all those stories about wild and crazy young horses were horses whose owners were not so diligent and careful as I was, who let their youngsters act like puppies or stuffed animals, and who hadn't invested as much time as I had.
Well.
Aston Martin turned four, the equivalent of an 18-year-old human. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, the foundation of good discipline, manners, behavior under saddle, was a fart in the wind. All the nay-sayers whose response to my every celebration and step of progress was "well, just wait till puberty hits" seemed to be right. (Bitches.)
Once again, I knew the most about raising a child and avoiding the headaches of puberty before I had a teenager.
As Aston Martin is four and a half now, he is still solidly in the teenager phase. I don't know how we will come out on the other side. But until then, I will approach him with the wisdom of Maya Angelou:
"Do the best you can, until you know better. Then when you know better, do better."
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