Vol. 113 - The Turbulent Twos Part 2

Another one kicks our ass

From the moment she was born, our daughter has been more or less a breeze. She started sleeping through the night within a few short months, has always eaten like a champ, is almost always smiling and laughing, and recently took to potty training with ease (and, of course, a few small hiccups that we’re still navigating. More on that in a minute).

She has been, by all metrics, a very easy child.

But suddenly, over the last few weeks, she’s turned all of that on its head and it’s throwing Emily and me for a complete loop.

Whereas nearly everything with her used to be easy, now, suddenly, everything seems to be hard. And not just hard. Like, really, really hard.

Lately, our mornings are filled with meltdowns for one reason or another (usually fashion related. Apparently, no shirt, skirt, pair of shorts or socks is acceptable any longer). Our evenings are no different, as she fights us tooth and nail to eat, bathe, and even put a diaper on before she goes to sleep. In fact, exhausted by the fight, Emily and I have recently taken to letting her fall asleep without a diaper only to slide one on as soon as she konks out. It’s the only way we can get her to sleep while also protecting her mattress from nightly saturation.

Though she’s recently turned three, our daughter is fully ensconced in what I call “The Turbulent Twos.”

You might be thinking that I spelled “Terrible” wrong but honestly what the fuck is wrong with us that we’re calling our two-year-olds “terrible”? Anyway, if you’ve ever been through this phase (it came a bit late for both of our kids, as it does for many), you’re familiar with how trying it can be. Everything… EVERYTHING… is a battle. And at the end of the battle, no one wins. Because the battles usually end with a complete meltdown from both belligerents; parent and child.

And those meltdowns come from a place of overwhelming emotion.

But here’s the thing—and it’s the thing that, as a parent, is so hard to keep in mind in those moments: those emotions are many of the exact same emotions we have as adults. Frustration, anger, disappointment, impatience, anxiety.

The big difference is that, as adults, we’ve developed the methods required to cope with and manage these emotions (for the most part. Emily might argue that I still haven’t developed the tools to curtail my impatience and sometimes, my anger).

Of course, reminding yourself of that in the middle of a five-alarm meltdown is next to impossible. After all, when your daughter is laying down on the floor in a puddle of her own urine because she insisted she didn’t have to use the bathroom ten seconds ago and now you’re telling her that she needs to change out of her favorite neon-colored skirt because it’s covered in piss, you’re hardly thinking, “She’s just dealing with her emotions in the only way she’s capable of dealing with her emotions.”

Rather, you’re thinking, “Get the fuck up and get out of the piss puddle right goddamn now, please.” At least I am.

But you can’t say that out loud to a three-year-old (of course, you occasionally do. Frustration has a frustrating way of winning those battles, after all).

So what can you do?

You can hold your breath (theoretically, of course) and recognize that, like everything else, good and bad, this too shall pass.

It reminds me of one of the best pieces of parenting advice I’ve ever gotten. Shortly after our son was born, my sister’s husband, an exemplary father himself, told me that, when it comes to babies, everything lasts two weeks. The bad, yes, but also the good. And so, when things are dark, just hang on and remember that a change is just around the corner. And when things are good, you have to embrace them, because, again, a change is just around the corner.

Of course, three-year-olds aren’t babies and that two-week rule has become more protracted.

But this phase will pass. Because they all do. The good and the bad.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go mop up some piss.