Toddler boot camp

Things are doggedly unsettled and so, of course, we've simultaneously entered Toddler Boot Camp.  We enjoyed a wonderful parenting class set-up awhile back, where the kiddos played in a delightful space with great supervision and the parents chatted in an attached room.  It was cost-prohibitive but nice.  The disequilibrium discussions there resonated, and I do believe moments of disequilibrium follow you from childhood through life.  Periods of calm rock-a-bye with spans of rockiness, skills and balance are attained and so the push and growth of a new journey begins.  Learning requires a degree of disequilibrium.  This is ever-present at two, and as a parent too.

I wear my teeth down in my sleep, periodically.  I'm supposed to use a bite guard, but lately I feel like I need to wear it all day long as I grit my teeth and steady myself for teachable moment #847 by 9 a.m.  It's all about who controls what, how much, where are the lines, when do they move, who gets to make the choice, is there a choice...  I'm exhausted.  Happy, lazy bath time is a cherry tomato face battle of epic proportions.  Nighttime hugs are withheld, with a smirk.  Two hours into our effort for nap I drudge to my bed and lay there.  It's a throwing, hitting, tantrum-y mess of days and nights here lately.  Out in the world he is the model of excellence in child behavior.  Delightful.  Charming.

I remind myself that this is exactly what he's supposed to do, albeit with more dramatic flair than one might generally muster.  This is exactly what I'm supposed to do too, to help him feel safe.  The other week when he ran to his room disgruntled and slammed the door (never, ever modeled, by the way), the moment should have come with lightening bolts of foreboding.  A teenager would keep the door closed for awhile and zone out to an iPod, but a two-and-a-half year old comes back with determined persistence.  So I grit, and admire the zeal if not the delivery.  Somewhere a thought trips along: the things you find especially annoying and trying are the things within you too. 

We stirred the beginnings of weekly banana bread yesterday and he looked up at me, chef's hat and apron poised just so, and said, "Me lub me Mama" for the very first time ever.  Swoon.  I keep defining the boundaries and he keeps pushing them and it's just beginning.  Maybe what my defined parameters need is something to toss them around a bit, for growth and all.  Toddler Boot Camp is, in any given moment, me doing the push-ups or me barking: "Lights out." 

I want a "frolic through the little daisy-covered meadows"-type of a picnic-y series of days, not a dust billowing, barbed wire, marching sort-of slop thing.  I'm all for a bit of compromise; we could march through the meadow, you know.  I'm ready for him to share a little lub.

Comments

[Katie]

I can relate... although we haven't officially hit the terrible twos. Hang in there!

[Beth H]

I really appreciate your honesty here! As another mom of a two year old, it's good to know that we're not alone...but again, what to look forward (without excitement) to.
Good Luck...Good Momma!

[Trina]

This made me think of two things that I have tried to live by in "momma-ing" and just in life:

1. Disequilibrium is a sign of new learning (both for you and for them).

2. When they drive you the craziest, that is when they need you the most.

Good luck. Hopefully the craziness will pass soon.

[Five Green Acres]

Oh we are so there with you. Oh yes. Isadora's terrible twos have come in like a lamb and are going out like a LION. And it's painful - on the ears, on the heartstrings, and in the desperate plea for just a bit more patience. Oh yes. Welcome newfound self-awareness and self-will. I hope my sweet daughter comes back real soon.

[OTJenH]

If it's any consolation, what seems like a huge behavioral regression often comes right before a BIG developmental leap forward. I know this intellectully, but emotionally I can never quite believe it. Until we reach the other side, that it. And then, it's like, "So that's what it was all about." It's happened time and time again. As new skills emerge, chaos ensues. Until finally, equillibrium is restored.

[Christy]

Thank you so much...I am sitting here at the computer just having put my two year old and four year old down for a nap. This past week has felt like war zone full of terrible two landmines. Periods of intense frustration, tears, disbelief, etc. You feel like you're losing the battle to stay sane, and loving and calm...and then comes that little hug or those sticky hands pressed against both of your cheeks while she says "kiss me." We all feel dreadfully alone in a house so "full" of a toddler at times..it's nice to read that someone else out there is wading through the same muck. Thanks.