Two

"Oh, he's TWO? YOU must be busy!"

"Wow, you don't get any sleep, do you?"

"I'm sure you're having a terrible time." (wink, wink)

I hear these and similar statements at least daily, as we're currently in the thick of parenting (taming?) a two-and-a-half-year-old human. Add in that said tiny human is a male, and the clucking tongues of others really get going.

And what do I do? Well, I do what many moms do while they're wrestling their sweet beloved boys (or girls) off the top of the clothing display, or out of the trash can, or away from the unattended highly reachable candy bowl for the 50 billionth time, and someone whose hands are empty makes what is typically a well-meaning comment. As I hoist up my forty-pound son and his belongings, and drag him toward the car/door/corner-for-a-talking-to, I do my best to glance in that person's direction and give some sort of awkward eyeball acknowledgement of the comment, perhaps accompanied by an "mm-hmmm." But the truth is, in that moment, I have no TIME to stop and express the TRUTH, which is that two is not terrible.

Two is challenging, and it is tiring, and it is, in my opinion, one of the moments in life that helps solidify whatever your relationship is going to be like with your child (no pressure!). Two is full of battles of will, testing of lines, and screaming (hopefully more so from the kid than from the parents).

Two is also full of something else, that in all of our "busy-ness" with parenting little people, we might fail to recognize because we don't have the time to. However, now that I'm experiencing two for the second time, I have come to believe that this age is the height of unfettered creativity and inquisitiveness for a human being.

I mean, think about it. We're born into the world without boundaries. We're just hungry. Then someone starts to feed us, and schedules start, and we begin to take in the rules that make humans function as grown-ups. And we start to emulate them a bit. And our parents let us, because we're exploring and that is good.

And then comes mobility, and the watchfulness of parents grows because it has to - we want our little humans to stay alive so we do things like pull them off stairs and away from stoves and trashcans. It's the good thing to do. And then comes TWO. And little humans' brains kick in and say, "Hey! How do these things work? I want to make stuff happen! And I don't CARE about the boundaries!" Because really, their brains aren't quite set up for that yet, which can be SO FRUSTRATING as you clean vaseline off your child's whole body and pull toy cars out of the heating vents.

But when  you strip all of the behavior challenges away, what lies beneath is a wellspring of creativity that is dying to express itself, make statements, solve problems, and test boundaries. (Hey, isn't that the definition of art?)

 Mister and I spent the entire (challenging) day together yesterday, just the two of us. Let's just say that he was at the height of invention and creativity. In the span of 10 hours, Mister locked me out of whatever room he was in at least 5 times (within 5 minutes). "I'm just pwaying in here Mommy!" or "I'm being safe!" He rearranged his sister's bed to "make a nest" multiple times. Had his sister been home, there most certainly would have been several tantrums about this.

In a moment of helpfulness, he switched from mopping floors to mopping the walls. In a grand display of artistry, the poor boy who was so very exhausted at nap time, kept himself awake for two hours by doing things like climbing on his laundry basket (and then falling off of it) because "I'm too short!" He played with his babies, yelling for me when they needed something. And ultimately, he fell asleep naked, a fact that I only discovered upon getting him up in time for dinner, which he scarfed down because he'd worked up such a hunger during the afternoon. And then bedtime featured water splashed all over the bathroom because he was swimming, another nakedness incident (we're pretty sure he's trying to solve his own problems by removing wet diapers), and the need to sufficiently tuck in his dollies several times.

You might be thinking I was exhausted by the end of this day, and you'd be correct. But I'm also in awe. I'm in awe of Mister's persistence and creative problem-solving, and his implementation of ideas. No doubt during the coming 6 months, our parenting messages of being careful and safe and clean will begin to sink in - because his brain will allow them to - but I want to take care not to squelch this spirit of creativity that exists during the crazy exhausting beautiful age that is TWO.

Despite all of his shenanigans, sometimes Mister just knows when he's hit the limit. 
Here he is, putting himself in time out. 

More Christmas, Please!

Christmas, 2011 was not the Bean's first Christmas, but it was the first one that she was aware of. And, man oh man, did that girl embrace the season! I mean...literally embrace it. Ornaments received kisses and hugs, snowmen pats on the head, and the baby Jesus was literally rocked in the Bean's rocking chair. Christmas was also a great language learning opportunity. Added to the vocabulary were the words tree, lights, "boo-ful," angel, star, snowman, and on and on. Each glimpse of a sparkling scene brought more "oohs" and "aahs" that escalated into giddy shrieks and wild clapping. This season was one of true joy, experienced anew through the wondering eyes of my one-year-old.

One of the memories that I will hold with me forever is that of decorating the Christmas tree together. I wasn't sure how it would go - one-year-olds can be surprisingly destructive and/or disinterested but have the equal potential to be captivated and attentive to something they find interesting. Let's just say the Bean was captivated. We truly decorated the tree together. I would gather a few ornaments from their storage box, instruct Bean to be careful, and she would remove them from their individual packages. She watched, eyes wide, as I placed each piece on the tree, identifying each character and object as they were hung. As I finished hanging each small group of ornaments I'd fetched, I was confronted by two frantically signing hands - MORE! MORE!

The Bean signs "More!"

Bean was so excited by the hanging of the ornaments that each time we ran out, she demanded even more excitedly than the last that we find more to put up. I would grow excited and comply...

...until we ran out. And then Bean cried. Hard. Her hands signed harder and harder - "MORE!" coupled with "PLEASE!" As I gently placed the empty boxes and wrappings into the storage container, and we closed the box together, the Bean finally understood that we'd run out. So we commenced ogling the tree, pointing out our favorite decorations and giggling as we made the oinking sound of the pig ornaments.

It was such a joyful, beautiful evening. One of the first experiences we truly shared together.

Fast forward to today, the third day back to work. It has surprised me that returning after this week-long Christmas break has been nearly as difficult as returning for the first time after four months of maternity leave. It was indescribably wonderful to have so many precious moments with my daughter and our family. The first day back to work had me feverishly demanding of the universe,"More Christmas, please!!"

Tiny hands work feverishly to hang ornaments

And though the lights and tree may be soon headed for the basement again, I pray that I am able to hold onto and carry forward the intense presence and closeness of Christmas into the year ahead.

A Simple Gift

At the end of one particularly rough day, I lean over my daughter as she patiently awaits a new diaper and pajamas. My hair lightly brushes her face, and she lets out a soft, round, fluffy giggle. Her fingers gently wind through the strands, and I know that I am loved. Thank you, dear daughter.