When I became a mom, I was filled with hope. And although over the years I have also been filled with happiness, love, anger, sadness, frustration, joy, worry and excitement, that hope sustains me. It’s why I get up every morning thankful the argument I had with Big Guy for talking back and rolling his eyes is a memory. That the time Little Guy spent in his room for whining and crying during the neighborhood hockey game is finally over. We can all try again.

Hope is a good four letter word. It’s my little shot at getting it right. Raising two boys that will be respectful, honest, happy and well behaved. That can benefit from all the mistakes I have made. I can dream, can’t I?

But there’s a small problem with hope. Sometimes, too much of it can lead to trouble. Sometimes, too much can lead to denial. And while hope is a good four letter word, deny is not.

There is, of course, a literal definition of deny. The one the dictionary publishes. I’d prefer to define it in mommy terms. To deny means for me to tell you that my child would never do what you are suggesting. That it is highly unlikely, if nearly impossible, that Little Guy or Big Guy could ever, would ever, speak that way, play that way, act that way. That I will continue to believe that my child is fine just the way he is.

Let me be more specific. The day I asked Little Guy’s dear teacher if she was sure that he intentionally hit those little girls on their bottoms. Or tripped those kids in the soccer game. The day I secretly watched Big Guy taunt his brother to tears and realized he could be so mean. Or the three day streak of getting his name on the board in school. All examples where my first instinct was to DENY.

The power to deny. To live in a temporary state of denial. Temporary because as moms, it’s our job to address the problem. And we will. But once in a while, it’s good to be in denial for a short period of time. It’s actually a mother’s gift. A defense mechanism. A protective lining that cushions us from the inevitable, difficult chore of constructing a plan or dreaming up a consequence. We know we have to do it. We may just need a bit of time to digest the problem.

But what happens when a bit of time turns into too much time? How do we know when to stop stalling? We know when our mommy superpower of gut instinct kicks in. It’s that quiet voice we hear lingering in the background while we do our best to avoid the unavoidable. It reminds us that we need to do something. It can be overwhelming. Even scary. Trust me. I have been there. A bit of advice: don’t delay the scary deny.

When Little Guy was a really little guy, he didn’t baby talk. No sounds. No babbling. Just a happy, smiley, quiet baby. I thought nothing unusual of it. A typical second child. I wasn’t concerned. My mom mentioned maybe I should be. And she is usually right. I chose to ignore. Deny. I had done this baby thing before. Little Guy would be fine.

Little Guy grew a bit. And a bit more. Some sounds. No words. No mama, no dada. Only mumbo jumbo that no one understood. And he was frustrated. Angry. He pushed. He hit. He growled and he scowled. He didn’t want to make eye contact. My happy, smiley Little Guy was no more. Even with all the evidence, I still wanted to deny. Dealing with this would be too much. It had been so easy with Big Guy. I wanted more easy.

Fast forward 5 ½ years later. After two speech therapists, two schools, one neurologist’s opinion and one educational psychologist’s evaluation, I am no longer in denial. I am in a good place because my Little Guy is in the right place. He has had the most gifted, dearest teacher ever and an amazing speech therapist. And guess what? He has blossomed. He is happy. Carefree. He has friends. He’s silly. Funny. And when he reads a book or tells a story, tears form in my eyes as I think of how far he has come.

To get to here from there, I had to get out of denial. And it wasn’t easy. Nearly all of parenting is navigating unchartered territory, especially when it’s figuring out a second child you’ve been comparing to the first. I expected Little Guy and Big Guy to be the same. In so many families, what works for one child also works for the other. But it didn’t in ours.

So if that little voice inside your head tells you to stop being in denial about an issue with your child, listen. Because once you stop denying, you once again have hope. And hope is a much better four letter word.

Illyse appears every Thursday on TriangleMom2Mom.