Do You Speak Toddler?
No? Cool, Neither Do I
The word adult implies many things. Childhood fades and all of a sudden there are small installments of chaos and situations in need of my autonomy. Coming into adulthood is a journey where the goal is to arrive to some semblance of certainty. In my case, situations requiring my autonomy are mostly handled poorly, and once that happens enough, I revert back to my childlike tendencies. There are memories of when I was a child and felt so much certainty. But as children we are groomed and urged to grow up. Now that I’m here, in my adulthood, I am urged for some sense of safety, to go back to being a kid. So, what happens when you’re an adult and a parent at the same time? Who’s in charge? It’s hard to be in charge when I’m still a child myself.
I am a mom to a toddler. I have a very special role as a manager to a very special person, who is undergoing very important and critical milestones. It’s inevitable, as a manager, to bump heads with the person you manage. The level of defiance my little person displays to me is all the same scary and admirable. I’ve never met a person with more conviction.
I imagine myself inside the mind of a toddler. There is no feat too big for a toddler, and if there is, there is endless energy that doesn’t burn out, so at one point or another, said feat will be tackled. Small freedoms are constantly celebrated; eating Pringles for breakfast, running through the yard in a diaper, crying endlessly because there’s dried cherries in granola, feeling well within his right to dance to Baby Shark for 5 consecutive hours. My toddler is not yet shackled by how a person should be in the world. He is chaotic, volatile, unruly. He expresses adoration without feeling tied down by pride. He is a sponge, taking his brain on a real life Magic School Bus ride, spewing out new words, new needs, and deeper laughs. No emotion ever felt the same way. My toddler, in general, exists beyond my ability to control him. Am I jealous? Is it that obvious?
My toddler wakes up everyday resisting to surrender his freedoms, the expectation for him to show blind obedience is constantly shut down. I understand that on some days I offer little-to-no room for exploration, that sometimes I want him to embody my rigidness. If I were to create a pie chart of my toddler’s qualities, self-determination would take up 80% of the pie. I discover time and time again that my toddler and I have a lot in common. He shows me that apples may not fall too far from the tree after all. It looks like, after a long day together, he and I are both trying to put together pieces of a life that will end up being something we’re satisfied with. Do either of us know what that means right now? No! Absolutely not!
Here’s the point. I have put together a list on how to get through those long days better. The goal for two needy, defiant humans, I think, is to understand that long days are tedious, and spending tedious days with a little dictator who still isn’t potty trained and a big dictator who asks for 10 minutes to herself in the bathroom can be like a form of sticking your face in the dirt over and over. So maybe don't stick your face in the dirt? And what I mean by that is, just understand that there are a lot of feelings and desires trapped within the confines of one room. Don’t let that suffocate you, instead just breathe it all in.
So if you are a big dictator (like me) who happens to live with a little dictator (a toddler), I suggest you follow my 4 point plan on how to get through the days better:
Don’t Project onto Toddler
Preparing to leave the house for a day out with Toddler riddles me with anticipation. I am on edge, I am nervous. But I don't want to exude these feelings, I don't want to show toddler that I am nervous. It is a scientific fact that Toddler can sense fear. So during our outing I start to check in with Toddler. “Are you ok? Where’s your Buzz Lightyear? Mommy and Toddler are out having a nice time. This is so enjoyable. Everything is going to be ok.”
In this conversation I am having with Toddler, I am actually having it with myself. But, in a secret, hypothetical way. Affirmations are soothing. I am manifesting. Keep following along for when manifestations don’t actually hold up.
Screaming is fine
I talk really really loud now. Like very loud. As a mother I don't really know what boundaries are anymore, including the boundary of what is an acceptable tone of voice. If you hear a woman at the mall screaming in the vague not-so-far-off distance, or a woman in the corner booth at a restaurant saying things like “Hey, What color is this?... hey look at me, HEY. FOCUS. No, please don't touch that. HEY WHAT COLOR IS THIS?? Don't you love to drink water? YUMMMMM REFRESHING!” all the while toddler is short circuiting. It could be because he is completely unaware of what he wants, or so certain that he wants something he can’t have. Sometimes it feels good to short circuit. Sometimes I wish I could do so at any given time, at any given moment, in the way he can. By the way I’m really sorry I’m so loud.
Burn your expectations to the ground
Toddler and I are both determined to go out and have a nice time. The problem is that he and I have two different ideas of what that means. So, forget whatever you know about having a nice time. Going to the pharmacy, going to the diner down the street, going to get gas will likely be a top-tier chaotic, sometimes traumatic event. This is reality. I am starting to understand why postpartum sweat exists. God really said, “Woman, you will never know a life without sweating profusely trying to contain your toddler, so here’s a little glimpse of what it’s like to secrete from every inch of your body all day long.” I think that's written somewhere in the book of Revelations, actually. My toddler, a gorgeous 2.5 year old with a shiny smile and long arms that he uses to hug me with, views me as a much taller but stupider person than him. As a person who understands nothing. So, to put pen to paper and firm up my response to him right now, I'd say: He’s absolutely correct. I have no idea how to contain the chaos, so let’s just learn to live with it, okay?
Me, learning and loving to live with chaos. Hug it out
At the end of these long days we all just need a nap, some hugs, and a good nights rest so we can do it all again tomorrow. Being a parent, I am learning, is a persistent declaration of self-love. Toddler needs all of my love, all of the time, in many different forms. But in order for me to do that, I need to be a little nicer to myself. Shake off the rigidness, sit down and stop looking at the clock. It doesn’t matter what time of the day it is, because right now, in this life, it is always Toddler time.
LAUGHING. OUT. LOUD: My toddler, a gorgeous 2.5 year old with a shiny smile and long arms that he uses to hug me with, views me as a much taller but stupider person than him.