Kids are funny. I have a 7 year old and a 12 year old. If you had asked me a year ago which one of my children was more "difficult" I would have said (with no hesitation) my daughter. She was the perfect picture of angst. Nothing I did or said was good or worthwhile. The eye rolls. The heavy sighs. Ugh (that was my reaction).
Now, I would answer my son, he's the difficult one. My little guy who still wants cuddles before bedtime, and hugs when he thinks I am sad. It's weird. It's almost like my daughter and he changed places. Now I get the eye rolls from him and the heavy sighs when I ask him to elaborate on something vague that he says (that purple thing over there. Which thing? (heavy sigh) THAT thing Mom...) Believe me, we have talks, and time outs, and tears (from both of us).
But at the end of the day, when either I or my husband tuck him in, he reaches out for me and wants a hug. A lingering hug where he holds me tight against him, so my face is squished in his pillow pet (he thinks it's more comfortable to sleep on it then his bigger pillow). He doesn't let go and squeezes me tighter when I pull away. He complains when I do this, but I don't mind, and let him squish me more.