The Truth About Terrible Two...

Terrible two.

We parents get warned about this as soon as our babies are born, show a hint of personality, or you know, breathe.

I don't find two to be terrible--and I shall expound on exactly why.

At age two, kids are usually full of vim and vigor AND piss and vinegar. If you're wrangling a milder kid, you get more of the former. If not, take heart because it's all just growth and discovery!

Note: I'm not an expert on child development--no degree in that field. I was a kid, and I've raised a few, so I've had time to observe from the trenches. Which I find to be more valuable than observing from the lab.

Our resident "sonshine" is a popular subject for me lately because he's developing at the speed of light! He's talking, doing colors, counting... just EVERYTHING! While I know it didn't happen overnight, and the learning is not a fluke or automatic, I still find it absolutely fascinating that he's grown so much in just 2 years.

As an adult, the only things I've gained in two years are a few pounds of happy weight, a new sprig of grey hair, and some travel experience. That's nothing to shake your fist at, but it's also not like I'm building the foundation of my entire life here. I'm growing but it isn't the same as, say, speaking in clear sentences for the first time or identifying my name, colors, and numbers a few years ahead of the curve. Doesn't even compare!

BUT knowing how much energy and effort it takes to grow and learn even a single thing, it's hard to not be amazed by the sheer amount of things that happen when you're two. You've grown from a cuddly blob to an actual person--where babies have maybe three moods, a toddler juggles the entire emotional spectrum. (Imagine that for a second...you go from feeling either happy or not happy, to feeling ALL the emotions, usually over the course of a few hours?!)

It can be exhausting to navigate my moods over the course of a day and I am 34 years old. I'm not throwing fits or having complete "CRYses" every hour either--the sheer amount of code switching, cue reading, and maturity needed for navigating age and situationally-appropriate responses is daunting, even (or especially?) for an adult! I, with 34 years experience, cannot always control how I react to what I'm feeling. Is it remotely fair to expect a toddler to?

I'm not saying toddlers aren't wholly asshole-ous sometimes. I'd be wholly lying. What I am saying is, if adults are allowed to have and express feelings within their scope of ability, why can't kids?

Speaking of ability--are you not blown away by the physical developments toddlers experience in those two short years of life?! To go from not being able to see clearly or hold their own heads up to literally jumping and running and climbing?! Come on. Like, almost every parent gets the inaugural busted lip and I'm convinced you're not human if your newborns have never head-bonked your face at some point in those first few weeks.

With all that new ability, certainly comes the need to flex it. To a stuffy old adult it looks like the kid is just hyper, but to that kid every jump, skip, and sprint is another milestone, a tangible burst of "Look what I can do now, y'all! I'm big and strong!"

If running and jumping isn't your cup of tea, compare the toddler energy to beating that hard level in your latest video game, closing the deal for that major account at work, or finding out you really can save x-percent on your car insurance. You achieved something or gained a new level, and you want to flex that new chop whenever you can. It's not showing off, it's human nature. Kids are tiny humans, so it should click that they too have that same need.

If the things they do and say don't amaze you, the things your toddler understands will.

Note: And THIS is why I'm fiercely protective of my toddler, possibly more so than a baby even. He can understand a million things, but can maybe only express in his words, about a thousand or so.

Toddlers aren't clueless by a long shot. They can pick up our cues and nuances far more sharply at this age than maybe any other time in life. They're somewhere between an infant's ability to take on the atmosphere they're raised in and a big kid's ability to speak on that atmosphere.

Imagine how frustrating it would be to find yourself in another country, unable to communicate exactly what you need (you don't speak the language quite well enough, but have a decent grasp) and unable to find someone willing to take a moment to listen. You become increasingly upset because you're giving it all you've got, and the person--who can help, by the way, if they take a second to LISTEN versus just hear--simply shushes you or tells you to hush or go away. You've been shut out. You're not being allowed to the simple decency of understanding.

Depending on the need, it might be a minor slight. After all, getting the red sippy cup when you really want the blue one, isn't exactly fatal.

BUT think about what it does to a person when they go unheard for too long, or are constantly thwarted.

Toddlers don't have the reasoning just yet to understand why we adults don't like hearing the same thing 20 times in as many minutes. Toddlers thrive on repetition, and it's soothing to them, so they assume we are the same.

THEY CAN ONLY RELATE LIKE TODDDLERS...NOT MINIATURE ADULTS. No matter how we dress them up like tiny replicas of ourselves or how on point their wit can be, they are still only toddlers. Large infants. Humans who have lived only two or three years.

It's damning to expect too much perfection or maturity from them.

Example? I have a pretty good one this time, an actual "thing" in our family!

My son is pretty big on showing feelings. He feels everything in a big way, and that goes for good and bad. And as his parents we have to help him navigate those big feelings and teach him social cues.

...it comes down to patience. Adults are usually more inclined to be patient with our peers. We can empathize better with them, as their frustrations and aggravation are our own too. We see them and we recognize them. They're only human.

...what, then, is a kid?

My point exactly.

You will never catch me labeling my kid, or any kid, as terrible. Not when they have literally only been alive long enough to START processing everything life throws at them.

You will catch me defending the living heck out of those little monsters, though.

I see you, small fries. I'm on your side, even if I have to be the one thwarting your attempt to fly from the couch to the coffee table. Don't be too mad at me. I just want to make sure your awesome self gets to see the next stage of the game, so I can defend your right to be there too!