I know that historically I've been known to focus on the trials of motherhood. I can't lie, the solidarity I get from all of you after those types of posts go live is super comforting...there's nothing like knowing your child isn't the only one who's deliberately peeing on the floor during a time out.
Today's post is a little different though. In the spirit of looking at the glass half full, let's talk about all the things I love about the terrible twos, because this age definitely isn't all bad.
1. The Talking
Listen to your child say "mama, I go fly on the plane to the moon!" and tell me you don't want to squeeze them so hard that they beg you to stop. Hearing their little voices articulate their thoughts and ideas is just about the coolest thing ever. Sure, sometimes my child says "no talk, mama" but she also kisses me on the forehead and says "dere, all bebber" when she accidentally whacks me in the face with her costume jewelry.
2. The Loving
The hugs. The kisses. The offering of disgusting half chewed food. They start it early on, but it just keeps getting better, more genuine, and hilariously timed. You say "time out" and get ready for a seriously big hug. And try not to laugh.
3. The Independence
This one. Oh boy. The independence and desire for autonomy is simultaneously the best and worst part of this age for me. It's the root of so many tantrums, disagreements, and difficulties, but it's also really amazing. I love that she takes herself to the bathroom, dresses herself, brushes her teeth, and struggles to open snacks on her own. Watching her become who she's going to be has been one of the real joys of motherhood for me. While her fiery, spirited, and crazy stubborn (and noisy) personality has caused me to want to sprint out of the grocery store more than once, they're qualities I hope she retains as an adult because I think they'll make her a force to be reckoned with.
Inevitably, whenever the terrible twos come up, someone will chime in "just wait 'til three, that's even worse!".
Here's a tip: that makes first time two year old moms want to cry.
That's like telling a pregnant woman that if she thinks pregnancy is hard, just wait 'til that ten pound baby comes barreling down the birth canal. Not helpful.
Twonager, threenager, does it really matter? They've all given us more love than we ever thought we could handle. So it's a more than a draw right?