When I was pregnant with The Poo, everyone told me how my life was about to change.
“Kiss your freedom goodbye,” they said.
“Sleep now, while you still can,” they said.
“You’ll never eat a hot meal again,” they said.
While the fear and sleep-deprivation were grueling, after a few weeks we had the hang of this parenting gig. The Poo got up to eat three or four times a night, and during the day I rested when she did. She slept through the night at two months, rising around 6 a.m. each day.
I recall one early morning with particular fondness; the sun was just rising as I held her in my arms, kissing her small, upturned face as she sighed contentedly and fell asleep with a full belly. I took her back to our bed and lay with her in the crook of my arm, both of us dozing as the world prepared for the start of a new day.
The next 24 months were filled with laughter, love and milestones. We bought two houses, sold one, moved 700 miles away from our home and forged a new life together as a threesome out here on the prairie.
And then came The Poo’s 27th month.
The naps ended. The tantrums started. The refusal to eat. The hitting. The running away from us in busy parking lots. The refusal to sleep by herself. The whining, the screaming … am I scaring you yet? If I am, good. You need to know. You need to know that there is a time worse than when they are newborns.
Everyone wants to tell you their war stories about the first weeks. But no one tells you about the boot camp that is toddlerhood. No one tells you that your beautiful, intelligent, charming child will morph into a wretched beast who strikes you in anger. No one tells you that some days you will lock yourself in the bathroom and bite a towel to keep from screaming in angry response to yet another tantrum.
I love my daughter with a depth and breadth I never knew was possible. The love, it is endless. It defies articulation. And so the moments when she shrieks at me to “get away” and I would gladly comply were it even remotely possible - they break my heart. Each day, with each tantrum and with each time-out, my heart aches a little more.
The next time I see an expectant mother, I will take her aside and tell her that the love she will bear for her child will be impossibly huge, and to enjoy those newborn moments of fatigue while she can.
Because eventually, that sweet little baby will turn two, and her life will never be the same again.
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[tags]baby, toddler, kids, parents, parenting, tantrums, terrible twos, behavior modification, adjustment, stress[/tags]
Photo graciously provided by M e l o d y, under a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved
14 responses so far ↓
thordora // May 1, 2007 at 5:22 am
No SHITE. I look back on baby days fondly sometimes with my 2 year old (although I hated the baby days with a passion)
I love my toddler girl, but she inspires the WORST feelings sometimes! I know it will pass, and she’s cute and lovable when she wants to be, but other days….oy vey….
Colleen // May 1, 2007 at 5:41 am
I think that whatever stage you are in seems like the worst stage. I found w/ my four year old I was always thinking quietly — boy this age sucks! So far w/ my daughter 15 mon. the baby stage has been awesome… So, I can imagine i AM in for it when she gets to the 2’s.
Whitney // May 1, 2007 at 6:09 am
I hate to say it, but Three’s were worse than 2’s at our house, but four, five and six are fabulous. In fact, while there are definitely ups and downs, even now the boys are 12 and (almost) 9, it’s really fantastic most of the time, and I wish I could preserve these moments forever.
Now of course, they like to tell me James will be a teenager next year, and drive in three and watch me scream (jokingly) and freak out, and then ask sweetly why… while I reply I love them and just can’t believe they are growing up so fast….But you never think about that when they have taken off all their clothes includign the diaper and are screaming in frustration in the front hall.
Slouching Mom // May 1, 2007 at 6:20 am
Spot on, Mrs. C.
If I could have fast-forwarded my children from 2 all the way to 3 1/2, I would have, gladly.
Those eighteen months were not the best of times, no, sir.
Annie // May 1, 2007 at 6:36 am
Michael had a rough time when he was around 16 months…he started the terrible twos early. And christina’s starting at around the same time. So my life’s been…interesting.
SIGH!
Cherylann // May 1, 2007 at 8:45 am
Just wait until three! Three is definitely worse than two with my daughter. Just thought you should know.
Melissa R. Garrett // May 2, 2007 at 5:35 am
I agree with the person who said every stage seems the worst at some point. I have three aged, 21 months, 5 years, and 7 years. My youngest is sly and mischievous. My middle is uncooperative and obnoxious. My oldest is whiney and tempermental. We’re sleep-deprived and short on time and patience. But then, in the midst of a tantrum or sibling squabbles, one of them will do something to send me into an hysterical fit of laughter. And it’s the most wonderful thing. But there are days when I fondly recall the newborn moments, before they were vocal and mobile!
Amanda // May 2, 2007 at 6:18 am
Yes, there is searing pain indeed as they push away. Yet it is so tenderly balanced by the intimacy of their burgeoning desire to communicate. I am up here in the Adirondacks going through the same tumultuous love affair, with my second already flirting with her own toddlerhood!
Binkytown // May 2, 2007 at 7:15 am
AMEN. I think I’m losing my mind over here. I was driving to work thinking how badly I want to be someone else. Just for one day.
Wendy // May 2, 2007 at 9:29 am
What you need to remember is that it is not personal.
I would take my kids as toddlers over babies. I dont have any guilt ignoring a tantruming toddler. I do have guilt whenever I would set my crying baby down and just cried myself.
Christina // May 2, 2007 at 11:42 am
No kidding. There are days I can’t get enough of Cordy, and there are days where all I can do is count down the time until bedtime, when I can get away from her.
It’s a secret “they” don’t tell you, but should be a part of every new parent initiation: you will always love your child, but you don’t always have to like them. It’s totally OK to not like them now and then, and toddlerhood can really bring this out in full force.
Damselfly // May 2, 2007 at 12:40 pm
When does toddlerhood end?
Binky // May 3, 2007 at 10:30 am
That’s the truth. The only redeeming factor for me about the terribleness of my daughter’s twos (actually, she’s not even two yet, but she appears to be ahead of the times) is the fact that at least my hormones are a little more in check than they were during those first few months post partum.
Kimberly // May 4, 2007 at 1:31 pm
Ugh. Well here’s more bad news. A friend of mine with a teenage daughter has been telling me absolute HORROR stories that make what I’m facing with a 2 and 4 year old seem like a gentle walk in the park on a warm spring day. As hard as it is right now, I fear these actually might be more of the “easy” days. The thought terrifies me completely.
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