Two Years In – How Did I Make It This Far?

Congrats! You’ve successfully kept a human alive for not one but two years. Break out the balloons and piñata! Treat yourself to a rainbow cake! Throw a party in your own honor! Oh, wait…maybe put the brakes on that pat-me-on-the-back ceremony. Trust me, I get it. You’ve come a very long way in the past two years. Navigated the nonsensical wake/sleep patterns of infancy, trudged through teething, nap refusal, and food throwing, and even managed to entertain an overly excited child in a world full of over the top holidays. If you think you deserve a night out with wine and dessert, who am I to rain on your parade?

But here’s the real talk. It somehow has gotten easier yet much harder though, am I right? Remember when helping brush your toddler’s teeth was a battle of wills? Now, the battle is bedtime. Please. Go. To. Sleep. Only at 9 pm does that growing brain of theirs decide they absolutely must recite every single word in their vocabulary, sing four renditions of “Old McDonald”, collaborate on the remix of “Jingle Bells”, and ultimately push the boundaries of your patience. Oh, and the food throwing skills still haven’t quite disappeared. In fact, my two year old is now a master at slyly determining what will ideally stick to her fingers just so she can wave them around above her head which maximizes the distance said sticky food will travel. Clearly, she’s destined for science greatness. Cue the eye roll. Yay.

“Me do it!” Emphasis on the word “me” and drawn out like a never-ending syllable: meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.eeeeeeee.eeeeeee. Asking if you, as an able-bodied and extremely capable helper parent, can help only makes this fun one act play even more tiresome. I have raised an independent young lady, that’s for sure. She can locate a hammer and screwdriver like a squirrel sniffing out a hidden acorn. “Me fix it!” she loudly proclaims. Interestingly, she can fix things in her own way, shortly after a meltdown and crocodile tears endlessly flow from her big eyes. I don’t know the hows or whys. Must be those strong engineering genes I don’t possess. Another eye roll. Yay.

Then sometimes I get a glimpse of the super sweet girl I fondly adore. The cuddling, open-mouthed kisses, and “I wuv yous” make my heart skip a beat. She knows just when to pour on the charm, too. You know what I mean. When you’re at the end of your rope, one second away from losing your shit and yelling so loud the neighbors get concerned, when she’s going left no matter how many times you plead for her to go right, when “me do it” is not an option. Then BAM! I see myself in her eyes, looking at me with all the concern a toddler can muster, she says “Mommy mad.” And in that moment she makes the wise decision to snuggle up to me, pat my inflamed cheeks, and give me a kiss. What can I do but to forgive, forget, and return the gentle kiss? This girl is destined for a profession of nurturing people and animals alike. Yay. I did something perfectly right. For the moment.