Drew was the easiest baby. He rarely cried, was content to entertain himself, went with me everywhere I went, slept great, and on and on. Just a very happy go lucky, jiggy-with-it babe! But toddlerhood with him has been very difficult, even for this zen-minded mama. The word "no" comes so boldly out of his cherub-like face, it startles me... his full pout stays pursed long after the word has escaped and I want to grab him and kiss him! And in that very instant I can describe perfectly what is going on... his cuteness collides with his naughtiness and I am oh so torn over what to do with this "supposed-to-be-my-last-baby-that-I-have-babied-so-muchly".
Look closely... there he is in the middle of this pile of toys he creates almost daily during "naptime". I want those 2 hours reprieve so badly that I still enforce it, and yet I spend a good part of it walking in and placing him back in his bed. He worked on this messy little project for about an hour and a half before his little body just finally gave in to sleep and collapsed right in the middle of the floor. Sigh - this is life anew with my little guy. I could spend all day running after him and cleaning up the messes he creates! Remember this post?
I feel like a novice here, and yet I am not. I know the age two very well: I have four, count them, four children! And yet somehow, this particular child has one up on me! He makes me feel REALLY out of shape. Lol. I'm pretty sure he's the child they had in mind when they invented safety gates. We have one permanently planted out the mouth of our kitchen. And thank heavens there is one room in my home that I don't have to worry about. One room that stays relatively clean all the time. I often think of just moving in there and conducting all my business through the net.
It is amazing how far emotions can swing, especially in a 2 year old. One minute we can be cuddling on the sofa and the next he's crying out that he's hungry, but does not want to eat. Lol! He makes my hormonal shifts look mild. I lay awake many a night feeling like I'm failing. Like this perfectly normal stage of development is a reflection on me.
How is it that we forget what it's like? I said to my husband, "Were the others this difficult?" And he can think of specific instances that I have completely pushed out of my mind. This blessing of selective memory that mothers have? Genius. It is completely responsible for populating the earth.