Two. Two years old. Two children. Both terrify me a little. Fiona's always been a pretty good-natured little girl. She didn't give us too much trouble as a newborn & has transitioned well through all the hurdles so far. But two. Two has me whimpering a little. There are tantrums & strong opinions about ridiculous things like pigtails & whether or not she's going to wear pants. There is this new habit of taking off in parking lots when my hands are full & refusing to come back when I ask. There is the bottle. (Oh, the bottle. We loved you & you have served us well. But now...) And after two years of sleeping happily in her crib, she finally figured out how to bail out & came knocking at our door one night. It was a moment of 2 am panic. I'd grown hardened to the occasional bouts of midnight crying, but she would eventually give up & go to sleep. Now, my strategy has been shattered. We decided to just transition her into a toddler bed & accept that she was no longer a baby to stay contained. She is two, after all. So I've been spending portions of every night (multiple times a night) trying to quietly heave my 30 week pregnant self out of a rustle-y, uncomfortable toddler bed after she falls asleep. For the third time.
And yet, two has been terribly sweet. Even at 3 am, when she comes padding into our room in her little footie pajamas, blankie balled up in her arms, I melt when she whispers, "Mama, come sleep with me." And we go to her little toddler bed & she makes room for me & pats me on the cheek and says, "Stay". And I realize what a privilege it is to be her mother. To see her grow & learn. To want to be like me, I can't quite fathom it. Where I am, she wants to be.
On the counter, helping bake. Repeating my phrases. It's so hard to remember her tiny newbornness with all the words, songs, & personality she has. I know my flaws, I know the resentment I carry towards her sometimes for being so
needy! I know the relief I feel when she goes down for a nap, that finally, I can get something done! And she loves me in spite of it all. And I her. There is just so much I love about this little nugget!
She picks me flowers. (All the flowers...) And says, "ooh, bea-ful!"
And then she tells me, "I'm tired. Want to take a nap." I do have it good, I know.
Two of them though? It's just starting to feel manageable with one! (Besides all the aforementioned challenges...) I don't know how to have two children. I'm not sure I can do this.
And then I tell myself: "You didn't know how to have one." And I know two years, two kids, will be okay. I'm still terrified. I still don't know how I'll do it. There will be tears & mistakes made, & weariness & despair. But there will be joy & growth, learning & forgiveness, too. I look back at how much Fiona has shaped me & shaved off the selfishness & deepened my character. And I know it's been good.
(That said, I'm still terrified. What were some of your wrong expectations about having two kids? What were some of the best adjustments you made to make the transition easier? Do you have any regrets about how you handled it? How do you fit all the groceries in your cart??
I really would appreciate any and all advice!)
