On the Subject of Two-Year-Olds, Part 5

5. Two-year-olds have enthusiasm and great appreciation for "the little things" in life.

It can be inspiring to see the world through the eyes of a two-year-old. So many regular experiences we take for granted bring immense joy to them. To them, the little things are big things.

These include, but are not limited to:

- Finding a huge stick to carry on a walk
- Licking muffin batter off the spoon
- Getting to wear an adult's sunglasses
- Babybel cheese
- Getting outside in time to see the garbage truck in action
- Stuffing leaves in the sewer drain
- Trying the mail key in every keyhole at the community mailbox
- Watching their freshly-washed prized stuffed buddy bouncing around in the dryer
- Hearing their favourite book for the billionth time
- Hearing their favourite song for the billionth time (I used to like Great Big Sea's "Run Runaway"...)
- Playing Sleeping Bunnies for the billionth time ("hop hop hop..." I'll be hearing it in my nightmares)
- Pressing the elevator button, doorbell, and buttons in general
- Flushing the toilet
- Putting more toilet paper in the toilet... and then flushing it again

Many of these Favourite Things go under the umbrella of tasks they can do "BY MYSELF"; a VERY big deal.

Watch out, though, if you ever dare rob them of these little joys, intentionally or otherwise. Oh dear. One day we were out and about, heading towards an exit, and Big Bro was on his usual mission to press the button to open the door. The poor gentleman who was kind enough to open the door for us didn't know what hit him.

On the Subject of Two-Year-Olds, Part 4

4. 2-Year-Olds see your safety instructions as big "Wet Paint" signs.

I admit that when I see a "Wet Paint" sign even now, I'm very much tempted to poke whatever's been painted and see if the sign is telling the truth.  "Sticky," I'll remark to myself, "story checks out."

When I was a kid, Mom told me, "DON'T look at the sun." Well. Doesn't THAT make it incredibly intriguing. Why? What, THIS sun? What happens? What if I look fast? What if I look at it between my fingers? What if... AGH, MY EYES...

Kids learn by doing, and you're just inviting a confirmation science experiment every time you try to pass along health or safety information to a 2-year-old. Now you've piqued their interest, and they certainly aren't going to take your word for it.

Mom's coffee is hot, is it? How hot are we talking? Let's stick a finger in there and see.

There's a blade in the blender, you say. Where, under all that fruit? I don't see it. Maybe there isn't one. Lemme have a little dig.

So, my head won't fit under the chair? Challenge accepted...

Sometimes Big Bro go out of his way to carry an enormous vase across the room to show me how we're not supposed to touch it 'cause it'll break. Or, he'll balance precariously on a soccer ball or start sliding headfirst down the stairs, all while letting me know that it's not a good idea to do it exactly like he's doing it. "Don't go downstairs like this, Mama," he'll say with great sing-song authority as he slides by.

Quite the rules man, he is. So I'll often find myself saying, "Don't touch. And don't touch it to demonstrate how you're not supposed to touch it."



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On the Subject of Two-Year-Olds, Part 3

3. All two-year-olds all have a natural skill called the "Wet Noodle".

It's a very effective form of resistance that expends little energy (for them, I mean). You know, when it's time to (insert transition here) and they don't want to. When you try to pick them up, their bones suddenly liquefy, and it's like trying to lift a 30-pound garbage bag full of oatmeal.

The best is when they activate the "Wet Noodle" when you're trying to dress them. Ever tried to get a pair of pants on cooked spaghetti?

On the Subject of Two-Year-Olds, Part 2

(The following is the second part in my series of observations on two-year-olds)

2. Don't expect a two-year-old to understand when "it's not a good time" for certain activities or requests. It's always a good time.

If I'm on the phone, it's a good time to ask me very urgently if I remember what bees make. If I'm up to my eyeballs in managing a furious baby brother, it's a very good time to ask me where the piece of the horse puzzle went, and inform me that I need to find it. If we're really, really, not-gonna-make-it late getting out the door to get to an appointment, it's an excellent time to put my shoes on over his own and then announce his feet are stuck. If I'm flat on my back recovering from surgery (which I was, lately), it's an especially good time to ask for a ride from Mama Horse.

Different priorities, that's all.

On the Subject of Two-Year-Olds, Part 1

I've learned so much about two-year-olds in the past six months of living with one and being around others. They're such neat people ("neat" as in "interesting", not as in "tidy". Bwahahaha!... no no, not tidy...).

Their feelings are so genuine, and they don't do things halfway. They're funny, smart, observant (too observant), extremely lovable and lots of fun... even on those days when you find yourself saying, "That's it! I've had it. I'm outta here. I'm going to Italy to Eat, Pray, Love."

I have made a few observations, which I'll share with you in this series entitled,

"On the Subject of Two-Year-Olds".

1. Misconceptions: You might mistakenly think a two-year-old is "shy"...

... but sometimes you just have to give them five minutes.

Give him a chance to get acquainted, and he'll talk the hind legs off a mule. Just like his Mama.

It's not just our family, though. We hosted some little buddies for his second birthday back in the winter, and most of them went through the standard hide-behind-the-legs ritual during greetings. Lots of  sing-songy "Say 'hello' to so-and-so"s from parents, but few actual 'hello's to be had. Two minutes later, they're strutting around like they owned the place, eating crackers and telling their life story.

They're not necessarily shy. They just need a chance to warm up, that's all (I, too, can be reserved until I get to know people well. I just don't hide behind anyone's legs).

A Real Balancing Act

The days can be a real balancing act trying manage the logistics of parenting a baby and older toddler. One day soon they'll play together, and we'll barely notice the 21-month difference. Right now, though, these early, physically demanding years are what I believe they call being "in the trenches".

The kids (now 2.5 and almost 9 months) are both at ages known for dependency and not for patience. Otherwise, their needs are pretty much all different, from eating to sleeping to playing. We have one who needs to nap, and another who wants to get going. One who can't yet walk, another who wants to climb all over everything.  One who loves to play with coins, and another who tries to eat everything.

There's us at the playground, me trying to help Big Bro navigate monkey bars (read: hold his entire weight while he touches each bar) at the same time as Little Bro dangles in the Snugli. I pulled a muscle just thinking about it now.

And yet, both are also at TOTALLY ADORABLE and fascinating ages, and I just want to hug and squeeze them to bits and lie on the floor with them and bask in all the "they're only small once" stuff and milestones and stories and shaking sillies out and more hugs and one-on-one time. And I want to do it to the same extent that I could do it when I had just one kid.

And, oh yeah, take care of myself and make food and do dishes and all that stuff that I used to do when days included a "nap time".

I'm a smart person who understands logically this is not possible, but somehow, I catch myself thinking that I should be able to manage all of my attention all of the time to each kid. I get myself all strung out thinking there must be a way I can cuddle one and wrassle with the other at the same time.

They're only young once! Savour every minute! ACK! I'm trying!

So it's an adjustment to process reality, even if I knew rationally this is how it goes, and sometimes I find myself feeling all bad for whichever kid is not getting the attention or whomever I'm missing out on. Aww, poor Big Bro is wandering around with a laundry basket on his head because he's been waiting all morning for his brother to wake up and eat before we can go out. Or, aww, poor Little Bro is all sleep-deprived because he's been tagging along at all his brother's activities. The humanity, I know.

I know they're fine. And I know it's good for them to have their own time to play and, you know, contemplate life. Good for me, too. Still though. I sometimes picture what goes through their minds...

The Allure of the Toy Car

I have always been intrigued by the apparent allure of toy cars.

It could be the tyke out and about with 3 dinky cars in each fist (my brother, once upon a time), the toddler intensely focused on the jeep he's driving over the arm of a chair, or the kid doing endless laps of the main floor pushing a dump truck, butt in the air and all. Or, as with my son, the impressive impromptu parking lot that is the staircase (a great setup when you're carrying a baby downstairs). Serious stuff.

Blocks, I get. Legos, Play-doh, all that stuff, I get. Sign me up for some son-and-Mom time with that. But the fascination and endless entertainment that comes from slithering along the floor pushing a dinky car? Help me out, here.

Now, I am 100% about gender-neutral toys. That said, I don't think I'm taking too big a leap to suggest this seems to be very much a boy thing. It wasn't a "me" thing, anyway. So I asked my husband to enlighten me.

Me: You were a boy once. So what's the big deal with cars? What's so fun about them?

Hubs: Well, you can do pretty much anything with them.

Me: Such aaaas...?

Hubs: Well, you can role-play with them. Like you would with Barbies.

(Now, I was never a Barbie aficionado either, but at least I get Barbies)

Me: But Barbies represent living beings. You can at least make them have conversations or go on
dates or hunt sasquatches or something.

Hubs: Yeah, well, with cars, you're being the driver. You can race, or have chases...

Me: And then after the first two minutes...?
__

I'm sure there's a whole world of possibilities in the imagination of a young boy when it comes to his cars, and I'm pretty impressed watching it in action. My own imagination is somewhat limited, though.