A Reminder

Emily is tough. 


She is two and she exhausts me.


Honestly, I wasn't prepared for her "terrible two's".  


Noah's first three years of behavior were nothing short of delightful.  He was eager to please, very obedient, and to the best of my memory, never threw anything close to temper tantrum.  


But Emily, she is, without a doubt, a "terrible two"!  She has the determination of a bull, is stubborn as all get out, and over-the-top dramatic!  And her temper tantrums.... they are the real deal!  I'm talking about the kind where she throws her entire body on the floor, face first, kicking her feet, and pounding the floor!  


And the tears...


She sheds a lot of them!  Most of them are in connection with some level of tantrum which is almost always the result of something not going her way.  You know, things like not getting to eat a cookie for breakfast.  Or having to comb her wet, tangled hair after her bath when she thinks it is fine.  Or not getting to pour her own drink into a cup with no lid.  Or having to eat lunch.  Or Dinner.  Period.


Those are the kind of things that result in tearful temper tantrums!


And then there are the tears that fall and morph into her famous crying mantra of "I want you hold me."...


Like when her flip flop falls off of her foot while I'm driving and I tell her I can't pick it up until the car is stopped.  Or her blanket is crooked and she can't get it straight.  Or I put the baby doll on the wrong side of her bed.  Or I bring the wrong sunglasses to the car.  Or I tell her that she can't wear her swimming suit to church.


Those are the kind of things that make her cry her "I want you hold me" mantra, over and over and over and over and over...


And then there are the tears that fall and morph into screaming.  Cold blooded screaming, I tell you!  Most of this behavior occurs in her room (where she has been taken for punishment) and is typically accompanied by loud door banging too.


Like when I ask her to come upstairs for nap and she responds sixteen times by saying "I coming", but never moves a muscle, and I am forced to go and physically take her to her nap.  Or when I tell her that it is not acceptable behavior to throw food on the floor and she responds by spitting it on the floor which results in another trip to her room.  


She is strong-willed.
She is a bit defiant.
She is ornery.
She is stubborn.
She is dramatic.
She is a temper tantrum thrower.
She is a cryer.
She is tough.
She is, I think, a normal two year old.


Yesterday, she completely wore me down.  I found myself daydreaming about the time when she will no longer be in this "terrible two" stage of life.  Wanting it to pass because I felt like I couldn't emotionally handle it anymore.


And then, today, just when I needed it most, I got a little reminder.


That reminder... well, it came in the form of clothes!  


I have been working to transition the clothes from summer to fall and so I had taken the bin of 6-12 month girl clothes and washed them all in hopes that Molly would be able to wear them this Fall.  


After washing them, I decided to iron them.  I don't always iron my kids' clothes, but I love it when I have the time to do it. 


Anyway, as I was ironing these clothes... the ones that used to be Emily's clothes... I was struck by how tiny they were.  It didn't seem possible that my feisty two year old could have worn those little clothes.  But she did.


For much too brief of a moment, she did.  


And I remembered how sad I was when I packed up those clothes.  I actually cried.  I remember it vividly.  I was sad because they were baby clothes and they didn't fit her anymore.  She was growing.  Too fast.  And I wanted her to stay little longer.  Her baby stage... it had passed in the blink of an eye.  And I wanted to hold onto it for a little longer.


So as I gazed down at this sweet little shirt, I remembered her wearing it.  I remembered her as a baby during those Fall days that passed much to quickly. 

It was my reminder.


My reminder that the stages of her little life... both the good ones and the tough ones... will pass much too quickly.  They will last for just a brief moment.  And before I know it, she will be all grown up.  


And her tears, they won't fall because of fallen flip flops or misplaced baby dolls.  Instead they will fall because of hurt feelings and broken hearts.


And her bedroom door, it won't be closed because she is being punished.  Instead it will be closed because she prefers to be alone and doesn't want me to come in.


And her crying mantra of "I want you hold me", it will be a distant memory.  Instead, I will wish that she would ask me to hold her.  In fact, I will probably give anything to have her want me to to hold her and  lay her sweet head on my shoulder... tears and all... just one more time.


It was a reminder I needed.


So, as terrible as her outbursts can be, today I am reminded of the good things this two year old stage has to offer...


She is sweet.
She is funny.
She has funny speech.
She has a cute space between her two front teeth.
She giggles.  A lot.
She loves to dress up.
She carries a purse and wears lots of jewelry.
She adores her big brother.
She loves to sing.
She has an ornery grin.
She dances.
She is tiny.
She changes her clothes.  A lot.
She takes her babies with her everywhere.
She loves to help me.
She likes to do puzzles.
She loves BandAids.
She eats like a bird.
She likes to wear chapstick.
She likes to read about Fancy Nancy.
She has beautiful eyelashes.
She is a girly girl.
She is precious.
She is wonderful.
She is mine.


Every now and then, I just need to be reminded of these things.  


For along with the tears and temper tantrums, these other little gems of two-year-old-hood will last for too brief of a moment.