The Terrible Two's

Previous to entering motherhood there were many coined terms that had become familiar to my ears.

For example, the Baby Blues and the Terrible Twos.  I blew such terms off as folklore, refusing to fall into a trap of parenting stereotyping.  I would be different.  My child would be exceptional.

When I left the hospital after giving birth to Lily and the nurse alerted my husband that I might be weepy several days later, I was resentful of being placed in such a box: my God is greater!

Then several days passed....and I was weepy.

As Lily approached two, I looked forward with anticipation and not fear: telling many that two was my favorite stage so far.

Then the last month happened. 

Two is terrible. 

And just as with the Baby Blues, I have discovered that there is more than folklore going on here.  There is research and history backing up the fact that two can definitely be terrible. 

Before you judge me as being a hateful parent, let me assure you in this moment that I am still delighted in my daughter.  I adore her & celebrate the little lady that she is and will become.  However, I have to confess that there have been many moments lately where I don't like her... 

Have you read the Robert Munsch book entitled Love You Forever?  It's a favorite baby-shower gift and quite frankly, a disturbing read.  You should check it out!  Several years ago, a dear friend pointed out to me (hello, Brooke!) the creepiness of a mother who cannot let go of her child and so drives across town at night with a ladder strapped to the top of her car so that she can climb into her grown son's room in his own home, pick him up while he is sleeping, and sing to him:

"I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

My baby you'll be..."

As appealing as such a connection may be for some mothers, I actually look forward to the more adult interactions I can have with my adult children.

Lily loves this book.

And I have a hard time singing the second line of that crazy mom's chorus to her as I read: "I'll like you for always..."  Particularly as I recall the moments lately when she screams at me, kicks and claws at me, and oh: when she bites me in TJ Maxx because I won't let her push the cart, breaking the flesh and causing me to yelp in the middle of a crowd.  Sadly, "I'll like you for always" did not run through my mind in that moment... (Something else did.)

Let's just say her new nickname could be Rage Against the Machine.

I have been reading Dr. Dobson's The New Strong-Willed Child as well as his counterpart's, Dr's. Rex Foreman & Nicholas Long's Parenting the Strong Willed Child.  Interesting that there are numerous books on the topic, isn't it? Comforting? On one hand it is encouraging to hear that this stage and its struggles are common. But on the other hand, it majorly depresses me.  I'd hoped to evade the struggle all together.

Here is where the tension lies for me:  I don't believe I'm commissioned as a mother to control Lily. Rather, I am to love her.  My sense is that a lot of her acting out is a direct response to my determination to control her. This doesn't mean that I let her run wild & free at the age of two.  It doesn't mean that I shouldn't guide her.  But, at two, what does it look like and feel like to discipline her & provide her with boundaries out of love and not out of control? 

Right now it feels like the re-occuring nightmare I used to have while I was teaching:

Suddenly the room of 5th graders refused to mind my instruction.  They refused to pay me any attention.  I would pull out all my usual "tools" of classroom management to no avail, and instead end up screaming at the top of my lungs at the room full of students...again, to no avail. 

And that's how the dream would end.  Terrifying.

I vividly recall having an actual, similar (though much less dramatic) experience while student-teaching.  And I remember my supervising teacher calmly telling me afterwards, that it is when one thinks they are exerting the most control upon their students, that they often end up communicating the exact opposite.  Therefore resulting in the fulfilling of the fear of loss of control. 

Life-impacting. 

My style of teaching was immediately changed for the better & I was able to find such joy & peace in managing a room full of 30 fifth graders for several years afterwards.

With my own child, a two-year-old child, I find it is far more challenging to adjust to and apply such wisdom. Perhaps it is because I don't clearly understand how to communicate in such limited terms that I truly care about her and that she can trust me.  At least with fifth graders, I can conversate and even negotiate!

*Sigh*

This is where I'm at.  And I think this is one of those "valleys" of parenting, of life, where we can be shaped to become better people.  I just hope my daughter turns out ok in the long-run!

Feel free to pass along any recommended readings and/or words of practical advice.  I mean not to fish for encouragement.  I keep reminding myself that children are a gift...a blessing....   And I KNOW that there is hope for me & for Lily :)