I’m the mother of a two-year-old

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I remember placing my smiling 4 month old on my lap – for hours – watching him drool. I would shower, as he cooed in his bouncer just outside the shower door. I could set him on a blanket in the middle of the room, where he’d happily chew on his feet, for what seemed like forever. Dishes were done, laundry was folded, and chocolate was eaten, as my baby watched – a look of calm contentment on his face.

There are no more quiet showers. Never a meal, or snack, savored in peace. Our home bears no slight resemblance of tidiness for more than a few minutes. Today, this child – this toddler – of mine has THOUGHTS… and PLANS! And he takes action, whether I like it or not.

I dig toy cars out of the sink’s garbage disposal. Tiny hands flush the toilet over, and over {for absolutely no reason}. Objects are hurled to the floor at the slightest provocation. Clothing is flung from every drawer within reach. The cat’s tail is pulled, for the gazillionth time …

There are reminders. Promises. Threats. Pleading. Prayers.

My voice has this amazing ability to crescendo with incredible speed …

But this is still my favorite age. He’s somewhere between a baby, and a teenager {glimpses of both come and go, throughout the day}. He crawls into my lap, and holds my face, as we lock eyes. He kisses me, and squeezes my neck like he will never let go.

He wakes up, full of smiles. Every day. Enough to last me a lifetime. His joy is constant, and contagious. He has no fear, and he shows unconditional forgiveness.

He speaks to me in the sweetest little voice. To tell me stories. To ask for help. To take hold of my hand, as we stroll together thru a store, or across a street. And I feel like the moon.

Then he shoves me hard, and is off, because he has better things to do.

I never knew I could feel so much frustration. So much fear. Such overwhelming guilt. That I could laugh this much. Feel so much pride. Or be so in love.

Gone is my tiny baby – nursing, or bouncing on my hip because he needed to be. And here, is my little shadow, determined to be near me. Because in his eyes, there is no place better than next to mom. And there is no time more precious than this fleeting, beautiful chaos.

It’s a little bit like lunacy.

And it’s a LOT like the best life I could ever know.

Happy birthday, my little man.

2 thoughts on “I’m the mother of a two-year-old

  1. Aww, this is beautiful, Jess! And of course I had to go back and read his birth story which is incredibly beautiful too!! Happy Birthday Connor!!!

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