And So It Begins

This past Saturday, we celebrated Mackenzie’s second birthday with our immediate families – a low-key, Minnie-Mouse themed party with pizza, chicken wings, cookies and cake. Unlike her first birthday, which was a big pat on the back to me and Chad for keeping her alive and surviving sleepless nights, this birthday was a recognition of how much she’s grown in the past year.

Her baby cheeks have given way to more defined features. Her hair is longer and darker with little ringlets on the ends that I hope grows with her. She stands with confidence and understands how to pose for the camera (which she immediately has to check out once her photo is taken). For approval, I’m assuming. 🙂

This birthday was so bittersweet for me because, seemingly in the blink of an eye, it was suddenly glaringly obvious that my sweet baby girl is not a baby anymore. She’s a two-year-old toddler on the brink of the dreaded “Terrible Twos” and “Threenagers.” For all you mommas that have been through this phase or are currently in the thick of it, you’re probably well aware of how challenging it can often be to navigate.

It’s a time when discipline is a real thing that they learn to understand, a time when a lot of change gets thrown their way – from potty training to toddler beds to (maybe?) a new sibling. And all that is on top of discovering how to navigate big emotions, express their needs and wants with words they’re still learning how to say, and seeing how their actions affect others.

But in the midst of the darkest moments, when you’re L.O. flat out does exactly what you just told her not to do with a defiant look on her face, hits you or others, throws the worst temper tantrum in the middle of Target, there is light and beauty in all of it. And even though, in the moment, we can’t see it when the blood is boiling and we’re trying our hardest not to explode out of pure frustration and exasperation, we know it in the deepest depths of our hearts.

We know it when, after the storm settles, our L.O. comes back to home base, which is in our arms, seeking reassurance that we still love them, that we’re still there for them even in their worst moments. We know it when they tell us we look pretty, even though our hair is in a messy top knot, not a lick of makeup is on, and we’re wearing an old T-shirt circa 2004. We know it when they give us hugs after our bad days, because they can sense our emotions, and have so much unconditional love to give.

I’ve got a strong-willed little girl on my hands who is incredibly empathetic, caring, and sweet. I’ve been through my share of dark moments with her already – the hitting and pulling hair is a real thing. Not to mention the flat out “No’s” and defiance when something doesn’t suit her agenda. It’s so hard not to lose my patience, get annoyed, and turn into a sassy-pants-mommy.

My favorite line out of this book I just finished about discipline (which I’ll share more about in a future post), “No Bad Kids” by Janet Lansbury is, “To love toddlers is to know them.”

They’re not trying to be pains on purpose – they’re just trying to understand how the world works, how relationships work. They’re begging for us to give them clear guidance. And a lot of the opportunities for guidance happens in these dark moments. So how we respond in those dark moments sends a powerful message – a learning that they will carry with them well into adulthood.

I realize that I need to flip my perspective and my response. My perspective needs to come from a place of understanding and empathy. A future-thinking mindset that keeps me in check because I know her strong-willed personality will bode her well later in life. She’ll be confident in her beliefs, true to herself, and unafraid to express her thoughts and emotions. She’ll seek independence and persevere with determination. All beautiful things that I truly hope and pray she carries with her.

And my response needs to match the situation. I need to pick my battles so the real important teaching moments stand out and stick with her. I need to take a deep breath so I can respond calmly. And sometimes, I need to just walk away and let my husband step in.

To think…I’m just getting started with this “Terrible Twos” thing! This is next-level stuff, easier in some ways than the newborn/infant phase, and harder in others. We’ll definitely make mistakes along the way, and learn and grow as parents and people (for the better!). Thankfully, I’ve got a supportive tribe of mommas to learn from, vent to, and laugh with (after the fact). 🙂

So, in the most long-winded way possible, I’m excited to be a momma of a 2-year-old, and look forwarded to all the beautifully orchestrated challenging, joyful God-given moments this new phase of life will bring.