Greetings from Terrible Twos, aka the Glass Case of Emotions
It’s here. Terrible twos.
I’m not even sure they should be named terrible twos, though. Maybe it’s a terrible stage for the parent. But the kid? More like a glass case of emotions.
One month before my son turned two I posted a picture to Instagram with the last line of the caption: “This age is the best.” Then boom, we went full stride into the worst transition we’ve had thus far, the big boy bed. And then we officially reached the cliché two-year-old phase. No advanced or delayed progression for us.
Every day is like a roller coaster.
The highs are high. The lows are low. Parenting seems to be more like figuring out the unique emotion and situation of the day. I laugh at meltdowns. I also get frustrated at meltdowns. My parenting radar is all over the place.
I teeter totter between moments such as, “You’re the cutest,” “I could snuggle like this forever,” to huffy puffy, “I cannot pick you up,” and “Don’t do that.” Sometimes I’m extra patient and can easily distract. Other times I throw everything constructive I’ve learned out the window.
I don’t think my son is terrible at all.
I try never to paint him as terrible either. Though, when I tell him not to do something, and he looks straight into my eyes and does it again, I tend to lose my sentiment.
I do think my son is learning and processing a lot, though. His communication is becoming more advanced, as well as his independence, abilities, and general wants and desires. He’s curious, busy, and sitting still isn’t quite yet his thing. He just wants to play. He wants attention.
That last one is one I often forget. Right now we have an only child, meaning WE, his parents, are his number one resource for entertainment. He wants to be in the know, be part of what we’re doing. He cries “Mama” so I will pick him up and he can help me stir what’s in the pan. Things like that.
There is as much fulfillment in seeing his growth as there is frustration along the way. It’s a constant reminder that these times are fleeting. I could do without the tantrums and resistance, but when we’re in the highs, I could care less if we snuggle up in the same bed, he eats dinner while sitting in my lap instead of the high chair, or wants me to pick him up to walk to the car. I’ll take what I can get.
And as for that glass case of emotions, it’s fragile and resilient at the same time. There is nothing shattering about the twos that can’t quickly be put back together again.
Breathe in, breathe out, and on to the next.
We’d love to hear about your experience in the “terrible twos” in the comments!