In many ways you are becoming the typical two year old. Insisting on pushing the stroller by yourself, instead of riding in it. Fighting me about having your teeth brushed, until I ask you which teeth you would like me to brush first, second and so on. You insist of dressing yourself--even putting on your own socks. You use your scooter beside your brother and are starting in improve on your balance bike. There are new words and sentences. My favorites are you mispronunciations. 'Bunny' is "Dunny" and 'Yes' is "Yeth" and 'nap' is "Map". "No map today," you often tell me. Best of all, this month we have found peace. It had more to do with me than either you or your brother. When I find peace within myself, I find tolerance, gratefulness, and a slowing down of our days. All which equal a happier mommy and in turn creates a happier you. Sometimes I want to act like you. I want to yell, run around the house and plop into my angry corner for a good cry (your's in under the art easel in the corner of the dinning room). I become overwhelmed by the weight on my shoulders, but then I realize that is all perception. Instead, I should be celebrating the fullness of this life. For some reason, this is easy for some people, but my moods have always swung from high to low. In the low I get so angry and frustrated with myself. Why can't I have the same cheery energy every day? So, I work at it every day. I work at self improvement for all of us.
This month there was the entire seed fiasco when you stuck a sugar locust seed up your nose. We ended up in the hospital where you were put under amnesia Turns out you had swallowed the seed. It was a low point this month. My stress sky rocketed. I could barely sleep. I knew it was minor, but I hate anything medical and my children. I am just glad you will forget about the many times I had to restrain you, kicking, screaming, crying, those two frantic days. During those types of moment I am become resentful. Why is it always me that has to be the bad guy? Why do I have to sit there and watch you screaming? Why was it me who was the only one to suffer pain to bring you into this world? I have to wipe those types of thoughts from my mind. They bloom from fear and wanting to run from responsibility. They create discord. Instead I have to focus on the fact that only I was able to house your body. That when you came into this world, it was into my arms that they put you first--recognizing that I had earned that right. That I share the trying moments with you and also the best moments because I am fortunate to be home with you taking the main role in your early years. There is no sunshine without rain. There is no life without strife. Without those challenging days, the lovely ones would not hold the same power. It is only through comparison that we create value. It is from loss that the blessing of your life brought to me world. I think these types of lessons are ones we need to review and remind ourselves of. From you are your brother, I learn the most important things. You have my Sage--my wise teacher. You know so little and yet, you hold the kernels of the greatest truths already. I hope someday you will have children of your own and learn from them in the same ways I learn from you.
You love when I chase you and peek out form behind the couch. You scream, "Boo!" and you collapse into giggles. You love when Daddy tosses you. You do smile and laugh but people who don't know you well are always surprised I am becoming more in-tuned to your muted expression. When our neighbor raked a pile of leaves around you, just for you, you became very still. Head canted slightly down, eyes slightly wider. I understood that this expression that others might see as displeased or not interested, was actually you being thrilled. Like River you are a cool child. Not quick to temper and no resentments. You get punched by your volatile friend, you just run to me. No revenge. I have yet to find you and your brother fighting on the floor. Granted, you did bite him the other day and had to go in time out, but that is about the extent of it. Yes, you have your tantrum days. Usually because you are tired, don't feel well, or are hungry. I've lucked out and have two wonderfully sweet and chill children. I often think how lucky I am and how lucky you are. Daddy and I are very good friends before we are anything else and it sees us through the hardest times in our lives. Neither of us, like you children, hold grudges very long. We forgive. We never yell at one another. Maybe a raised voice here and there. Sometimes at marvel at how well we compliment each other and run this family machine. I am so glad that you and River get to have a father present and one as steadfast and kind as this.
You are still the least affectionate person in this household! The child that runs from kisses or covers her mouth. The one that ran up to me when I came home one day and gave me the briefest cuddle before running away again. I was surprised by the greeting at all, honestly! You love to count and sing to yourself. We are working on colors now. You don't know even one letter! Some days you mostly use the potty, other days you don't use it at all. We're in an in between place that I am savoring. I don't try to imagine you older or think about, "O, when you are three you'll be able too..." because everything is often one big blur these days. I used to crave tomorrow and now I am amazed it is here already. So, I work on slowing down. Savoring. Reflecting. Relaxing. It's not easy for me. I feel like I've been running for too long, away from my past and towards a brighter future. But I don't want to run through these years. I'm already to those brighter days. What I want is here, it changes, but slowly. It only seems to go fast because I am so happy in the present. I want your little knees and feet curled into my belly at night. I want the mess of your curls and even the tedium of picking out the tangles each morning and each night. I want to be here with you.
Today I said, "Come here, Strawberry. Let me change your diaper."
You looked at me sternly, 'No," you said. "I Sagey".
And you are. You are the incredible, original you. You came to me a mystery and every day you teach me more about life, celebrating, joy, challenge, working...and on and on and on. You are one of my hardest lessons, but one of my most rewarding.