Things My Two-Year-Old Taught Me: Part II

bug, like most two-year-olds, is very independent.  Or, at least he tries to be.  Forget about asking him to put his shoes on now so we can go to the store; he’ll put his shoes on when he darn well feels like it, thank you very much.  Asking him to clean up his toys?  Sure, he’d be happy to.  On his own timetable.  Things seem to take much longer with a two-year-old around.  

I’d always been a pretty snap-to person.  When it was time to get ready, I got ready.  When it was time to leave, I left.  (The only scenario this did not - and does not - hold true for is waking up in the morning.  I’m a “snooze” pusher.)  I’ve got about a billion things going on in my head at one time and about a billion other things I’d like to get done, so it’s go, go, go!  

Combine these two very opposite philosophies and you’ve got some problems.  Now multiply that by yet one more pretty independent two-year-old with some girlie diva tendencies and a new baby who can’t do a thing for herself... it spells trouble, right?

Think about trips to the store.  (I know, I know... I could just wait and go by myself in the evening after mr gets home.  But there are a few reasons I don’t want to do this.  Firstly, I want to spend time with mr when I can - I’d rather be talking about his day than hunting for ripe avocados.  Secondly, I do not like being in my house all day.  And neither do the kids.  Going to the store - especially in winter when you can’t play outside as much - is a welcome break in the routine.)  In the past, I could get my grocery shopping done in half an hour, 45 minutes tops.  Now, it takes about that long just to get ready to go and buckled in the car.  If you want or need something to go fast or smoothly, don’t take two toddlers and a baby with you.  I’ve learned that!

Sometimes I miss the days when I could tell bug to do something and he would just do it.  No sassiness, no dawdling, no whining.  Whenever I miss those days I try to remember how sometimes, when I am hurrying him up, he’ll start walking in this funny little slow bounce.  Which makes me laugh.  Or he’ll crack a smile and start walking even slower, on purpose (stinker) so I’ll “attack” him.  Which makes HIM laugh.  Or I think about how last summer, he was so infatuated with airplanes that every time he saw one he had to stop and point, saying “awtah!” (his word for airplane for a long time) even if we were in the middle of a parking lot in a VERY big hurry.  But his chubby little pointing finger was so cute and his joy at finding an airplane in the sky so pure... 

And then I think about teaching him to master his little tricycle (which he's working on...) and how pretty soon I'll blink and have to do it all over for a bike.  And then (even worse) I'll blink again and he'll want his driver's license.

And I think that’s what I’ve learned.  Sometimes, you need to stop being in a hurry.  Sometimes you need to slow down.  

Breathe.  

Look around.  

Smile. 

Enjoy.

I’ve tried to stop saying, “hurry, hurry!” to bug.  I think instead, I need to meet him at his own pace.  I think if I do, I’ll enjoy my time with him more.  And I may just see a lot of things I would have missed.