If you're a new parent, soon-to-be parent, or even if you've been a parent for quite a while, the debate will rage on: girls are easier; boys are easier; little kids, little problems, big kids, big problems, and on and on. Based on my experiences, I'm going to say that whatever stage of parenting you're in right now, that's the hardest. The part you've survived seems like a cake walk.

I always knew I wanted to be a mom, and I wanted to have a pack of kids. I didn't have much of a preference of girls or boys, but after having two boys in a row, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking pink for number three. When E arrived, more than one person told me that "I was in trouble now."I got my first dose of "girls are harder" in preschool. Three-year-old E came home and informed me that she wouldn't be wearing dresses anymore. One of her little friends decided to tell her that she didn't like her clothes, and that E should wear jeans, instead of dresses. I was stunned. They were 3! I asked E if she liked wearing dresses. I will confess, as she was my only girl, I did tend to go a little overboard with the girly-girly, matchy-matchy clothing. She said that she did like wearing dresses, but that she would like to try wearing jeans sometimes, too.The next day, I sent her off in jeans, and an entire outfit that she picked out and coordinated herself. So, imagine my surprise when she came home in tears because she had been told by her little friend that her jeans were from the wrong store. How does any 3-year-old on the planet know that?At that point, the Wonderful Husband and I had a long discussion with her about so many things, most of which probably went over her head. Eventually, it all worked out, and E has developed her own style that makes her happy, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief when we got to kindergarten and a standard dress code. It should be noted that I'm pretty sure the boys have gone to school in the clothes they've slept in, and no one has said a word. Dressing little boys is much easier.Recently, I inadvertently started another mean girl war during a swim meet. E was preparing for a race in which she was poised to do quite well. Sitting in the seeding area, behind the blocks, I, as her coach, stopped to give her a quick pep talk and also, as her mom, encouraged her to pull her suit down so she didn't go to the blocks with a giant wedgie.I reminded her not to breathe while she was swimming, because her little 6-year-old self tends to stop swimming entirely to breathe, so until she works out the kinks with her breathing, not breathing at all seems to be the fastest way for her to swim.After I said that, another little voice was quick to inform me that I was wrong."You need to breathe three times," said the little fish in the next lane. Not wanting to confuse E, or deviate from our plan, I said to the little swimmer that everyone was different and had a different plan for swimming their best."Nope! My coach told me. It's three breaths and that's the right way," she informed me.Well, I certainly didn't want to step on another coach's toes, so I told her that whatever plan her coach had worked out for her was probably the best plan for her and she should listen to what her coach told her to do. That's when it got ugly. A swimmer from the other side of E added her two cents."Only slow swimmers take three breaths," she said, confidently.I may have been more shocked than I was when the 3-year-old told me she had to buy her jeans at a different store.Instantly, I could see the second little swimmer deflate. I could see her brain process the fact that I had told her that every coach had a different plan for each swimmer, and then figure out that if her coach told her to take three breaths, and if only slow swimmers take three breaths, then she must be a slow swimmer. I wanted to call a time out, right then and there.While the coach in me appreciates confidence and a great mental game, I don't appreciate poor sportsmanship at the expense of another competitor. The mom in me just wanted to hug the second little swimmer and tell her that the best swimmers in the world take three breaths. But the kids were called to the blocks and sent on their way.While I initially was taken aback at how cutthroat 8-year-old and under swimming can be, the more I thought about it, the sadder I got. Should 8-year-olds really be this intolerant and unaccepting of each other's differences, so quick to capitalize on another's perceived flaw? Is telling an adult that she's wrong brazen and disrespectful? Or are kids right to question authority? Should I have pulled them all together after the race and talked about what had happened?In all my years of coaching the boys, the most stressed out I ever got behind the blocks was when a pair of goggles snapped seconds before the race. It had nothing on this.I'm pretty sure that between the three of them, they've long forgotten what was said before the race. As far as E goes, she hopped in, and proceeded to breathe on every stroke, while smiling at me the whole time. She breathed approximately 32 times. She also came in second place. She came back to practice this week and told me she wants to practice not breathing more.While I hope her motivation is to become the best swimmer she can be, I suspect that overtaking her newfound rival is also a push for her. I also have a feeling this is going to get a lot harder before it gets easier.Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.