Wishing Time Would Slow Down

I have to admit, as much as I’ve heard others moan and groan about the “Terrible Twos,” I’m actually enjoying this phase with Mackenzie. Sure, sometimes she pushes my buttons, doesn’t like to listen all the time, sasses back and pouts – and then my gut reaction is to lose my patience and get frustrated. Chad is constantly reminding me that, “She’s just being a two-year-old.” Okay, I get it.

Even in those moments, I can’t help but appreciate the little person she’s become. The other day she just flung herself into my arms and said, “I love you so much, Mommy” in her adorable little voice. I mean, it can’t get any sweeter and better than that. And in that moment, I wanted so much for time to stand still. In fact, every day, I find myself wanting time to slow down with her.

Which is so opposite of what I thought when she was an infant. I couldn’t wait for the next milestone to happen…when she’d lift be able to lift up her head, smile, laugh, sit up on her own, eat solid foods, crawl, stand, walk, etc. I was wishing for time to speed up. It’s funny how that works. Because I feel like once your L.O. becomes a toddler, it’s less about the big milestones and more about the gradual progression of them becoming their own person.

Every day, she surprises me with something new – whether it’s a new phrase she’s picked up, a new dance move, a new word, or a new skill. It’s the smaller milestones now that I’ve come to cherish and revel in. And each time, I feel a tug in my heart that this moment, this phase, is fleeting. There will be a day when she won’t kiss me on the forehead for no reason, wrap her little arms around me with such fierce love and adoration, cuddle and read a book under the covers, and just always simply wanting me to be near her (which, I’ll admit, I need a break from every now and then). And that’s what makes me want time to stand still.

Because the thought of her growing up even more, separating herself further away from my protective bubble, preferring to be with friends over me, maybe even finding me to be “so annoying” when she’s a teenager…the thought of any of that breaks my heart. As much as there’s so much upside to them getting older like not needing constant supervision, bathing and getting dressed on their own (although I’ve heard that can be a battle), no nap times to schedule around, no diapers to change, less guilt about dropping them off to a family member or friend for a night out…it just doesn’t compare to the sheer innocence and joy of a toddler.

Like I said before, it definitely isn’t all sunshine and happy days. There are undoubtedly many other moments when I just want to pull my hair out and need to take a few deep breaths before I completely lose it. In the eye of the storm, it’s hard for me to see, but in the aftermath, when reason comes back, it’s so clear that in those particular moments, I am projecting my unrealistic expectations on her. (Hence Chad needing to remind me of her age.)

I can’t expect rational reactions from a two-year-old who’s feeling all kinds of new emotions and doesn’t yet know what they are or how to handle them (No, throwing things out of frustration is not the way to deal). I can’t expect perfect behavior all the time (No, running around the room instead of following instructions in Mommy and Me dance class is not acceptable). I can’t expect her to know every consequence of her actions (jumping on the couch = falling and getting hurt, running into the street = getting hit by a car, not going to bed when it’s time = tired and cranky the next day).

What I need to remind myself is those are teaching moments – for myself and her. For myself, I’m learning how to respond better and from a place of empathy. Rather than project my emotions onto her, I have to consciously put myself in her shoes and try to understand how she’s feeling – and to always be one step ahead when it’s not our first rodeo and I know how she’ll react (after all, I am the adult in the situation so I better act like one). It’s tough and I sure as heck don’t get it right all the time.

But it’s important that I try because this is the time in her life when she’s the most impressionable. She’s learning so much about how the world works and it’s up to me and Chad to help shape that world for her in a way that sets her up for success throughout life. It’s so fun to relive all the wonder and awe in the small things with her that I’ve come to take for granted as an adult. It really is a blessing.

So the next time Mackenzie runs up to me, gives me a big wet kiss and tells me she loves me even when I’m rushing out the door because I’m going to be late for a meeting at work, I’m going to slow down and count my blessings…and I’m going to wish for time to stand still.