God Gives Us Two-Year-Olds

Okay, granted, my baby is not two yet. How could she possibly be two? I have no idea. But, in a little over a month, it will be official.

I just read a post from a friend whose daughter just turned one. I feel like it could have been me writing about Kevin's first birthday...right down to the balloons, the "one curl I insist on keeping," and the ruffly Target dress (except Kevin's was green instead of pink). And now...now we are quickly approaching another birthday and I am wondering, yet again, where the past year has gone.

I am also wondering where that one curl has gone...now she has a few dozen and her hair is an unruly mess. I can't seem to bring myself to let her have a "real" haircut, so I insist on trimming her bangs and watching the back (where all her curls are hiding under the top layer of stick-straight hair) get wilder and wilder. Her hair is longer than mine now...how did that happen?

Even though we still have a month of this blissful, adventurous year-of-being-one, I am starting to realize why God allows children to turn two.

Because how else would we survive life?

This week--okay, the past several weeks--have been so difficult on me. You think you've got the Mommy thing down and then BAM! there's something else to conquer. I thought being pregnant was bad the first time. Oh, how I complained--the morning sickness, the food aversions, the climbs up Old Main hill to work, the days of trying to just make it through class--and now I am wondering what that girl thought was so bad about it all. This time around seems so much harder, so much worse.

I've been trying to figure out why.
I know you think you know where this post is going...I have a two-year-old after all...

And this is the closest I've come to an answer:
When you are pregnant, people (especially close friends and relatives) like to ask how you are feeling. And, as a pregnant woman, you like to tell them how you are feeling--physically. For me, that answer has gone something like this, "well I'm not nearly as nauseous this time around, which has been nice." And that ends the discussion--no nausea equals a piece of cake pregnancy, right?

That's what I thought too.

But somehow, I never spent whole days crying during my last pregnancy, and that has been an all-too common occurrence this time around (somebody give my husband a trophy!).

Do you know what happens when you spend whole days crying? You work yourself into a tizzy, that's what. You can't see an end, you can't even see a beginning. You feel so lonely and become positive that there is no help to be had (when in reality, help is only a phone call away the whole time...if you can stop crying long enough to dial). You start to feel trapped. You start to lose hope. You start to lose joy.

Then God gives you a two-year-old (or, in my case, an almost two-year-old).

Here's the thing about toddlers, especially ones that are starting to learn their own minds and climb the stairs with their feet and not their hands and knees: they are stubborn. They know what they want. They don't accept excuses. They will probably look at your tears and wonder how to make them go away so that they can wrangle a package of fruit snacks out of you before lunch. They will pull and push you into playing with them. They will start laughing for no reason, and that will make you smile. They will get excited about the little things, and that will give you a reason to try and create some magic on an otherwise dreary afternoon. Sometimes they will break their routine and take a three-hour-nap in the middle of the day just when the nausea makes a temporary appearance and you desperately need to lay down.

And sometimes, even though they are not inclined to be cuddly, they will give you a hug for no reason. Or maybe, if they are feeling particularly generous, they will give you a kiss. And they will do other adorable things like call out for their "Daddy!" at 4:00 am so you are in no way responsible to get up with them. They will start talking your ear off and expect you to know every answer and make your heart melt when they offer an unsolicited "thank you!" They will copy every move you make, and when you lay down on the floor and cry--they will repeat the gesture 20 minutes later, just to show you that there are more important things to cry about than hormones (like binkies that get taken away before they are willingly surrendered).

She's a walking pep-talk, saying, "Look what a great job you did the first time! I was worth it then, and the next baby will be worth all the work and sacrifice this time around too!"

So, while sometimes I think we are crazy for attempting to add another child to our family while our first one is still so young, I sometimes also realize that she may be the only reason I survive this pregnancy.