Toddlerhood

This sweet, bossy, friendly, loud, loving, cranky little guy has been rocking my world this week. And not in a good way. Who knew that such a small, cute, peach-fuzzy creature could inflict so much angst on another soul. (Permission granted to all you veteran toddler mothers to say you did know and smile and laugh at my ignorance. Not that I was really ignorant, I mean, I grew up hearing all the awful stories of things that I put my own mother through as a toddler). I digress...

Nap time has been the bane of my existence this past week. And his, I'm sure. It's been rough, on both of us. Lots of kicking and screaming and lots of "Nnnnoooo!!! I don't nap!!" So, I've stopped trying to put him down for a nap. It just wasn't fun or effective (since he usually just screamed a bunch and then would play with toys--which I was okay with as long as he stayed in his room). It kind of kills me though because I see him yawning and rubbing his eyes and I know he could still really really use a nap. Today he fell asleep in the car on the way home from the library, so did his sister. It was an hour of bliss for me in the car, all the while wishing I had my book or my computer to work... And what do you know, he was so much more pleasant this afternoon!

Toddlers are really just strange creatures. It's like everything I do with him is some game. Some days I find myself winning the game, other days, losing terribly.

The moments when I win go something like this:
Me: "Daddy, do you want this apple?"

Shae (seeing that I'm giving daddy something): "No! It's my apple." (Runs over, grabs it and starts to eat it).

You can bet your bottom dollar if I had offered him the apple he would have said, "Nope." There's been a lot of "nope" lately, and many a "no" throughout the day. Aka: Constant. I mean, he's been saying the word "no" for quite some time, but it feels like it is the only thing that comes out of his mouth these days. 

Me: "Shae, can you please take that noisy toy to the living room so that I can help your sister go to sleep."

Shae, before I even finish the sentence: "No." Keeps playing with the toy.

All. Day. Long.

Old Shae would just get up and go to the living room. Come back old Shae!

There are those moments where I also clearly lose the game. Where I have put his shoes on him and he has taken them off a couple times and I finally give up and say, "Fine, let's just go. Barefoot." (I always bring the shoes with and they get on his eventually, usually).

But even though it's almost all awful these days, there are still those moments where he puts his little index finger up and asks, "Mom, you come in my house (aka: piles of stuffed animals and pillows) and play with me? Pweeeeeeese?"

Or when he's supposed to be napping but we've come to an agreement that he can do a quiet time instead, and he sticks his head out the door and loudly whispers, "Mom, I wear necklaces, I so pity (pretty)."

Or when he immediately stops whatever he is doing and says, "I miss daddy. I love daddy. Daddy go skoo."

And then the next minute he's on the floor laying on top of his sister, or putting his blankie over her head, or playing the drums on her tummy. All. Day. Long. That poor girl. I almost feel worst for her than me that Shae doesn't nap anymore. I take that back, she clearly still naps, so gets a little bit of peace (with the sound machine blasting) during that time. But seriously, poor girl.

I just do. not. get. toddlers.

The other day I asked Shae if he wanted a quesadilla for lunch. Yes he did. I start making it. I start grating the cheese and he flips. "No cheese! No cheeeese!!!" "So you just want a tortilla?" I try to hand him the tortilla. "No! Want Quesadilla!" I start grating the cheese again all the while he is having a tantrum in the background because I am putting cheese on his quesadilla.

He finally calms down. I give him his plate and he is happy. Then he asks for salsa. I ask if he wants the red or green salsa. "Purple." Of course. Of course he wants the purple salsa (????) You can guess how that went down. He is finally happily eating his quesadilla (with cheese) and red salsa when he looks up at me with the biggest grin ever and says, "I just LOVE quesadillas! Thanks mom!"

Your welcome? 

But who doesn't love this little short legged smiley run coming at you at full speed?

But then what do you do when he asks for the swing so you put him in the swing just for him to fuss that he wants to get out of the swing and then when you get him out, what do you think he wants to do? Oh of course, get back in the swing.

That poor little brain, sometimes it just has no idea what it wants.

And then there are those moments where he makes his sister smile, and he makes her laugh more than anyone else could. How can you not love that?

 

 This kid works me every single day. Some more than others. We seem to both be working hard to teach the other to control his/her emotions (just in very different ways). I hope he is learning something from me, because I sure am learning a lot from him.

I really realized this past week that I cannot do this parenting gig alone. This week I found myself turning to Heavenly Father more than I have in quite some time. I had a moment this week where I really felt that he was helping me. I felt such a strong connection with him. I felt so strongly that above all else, God is a father.  He isn't a lawyer, or a plumber, or a doctor, he's a parent. Just like me. Both trying to lead and guide our children through the good AND the bad. 

Being a mom sure can be messy at times. It can be loud and smelly and frustrating and tiring, but I wouldn't trade it. (Even though at 4 a.m. I might say different). The coherent me wouldn't trade what I have. These kids can be irrational and confusing and indecisive, but so can I, just ask my husband. I guess there is something we are meant to learn from it all.

Love.