Very rarely are there peaceful moments in this house. I’m constantly on the go and thinking ahead. I think about things I need to do, need to buy, and people I need to call. It’s hard to slow down my brain because even in those peaceful moments that’s when I have a chance compile my thoughts without distraction.
My toddler is my wild child. He might only be 2.5 but he is always busy and curious about everything around him. If there are ants on a tree he is laying in the dirt tracing them back to their hole. If there is the possibility to climb something he has already done so and is preparing to jump off. He is more fearless and resilient than I could ever hope for him to be. I blinked and from that chubby infant emerged a full fledged toddler so full of questions and ready to jump into everything without hesitation. He is fiercely independent and very little seems to phase him but he always come back to me when he is sick or hurt.
I am his rock.
Tonight I sat with him for an hour until he finally fell asleep after a very long battle of wills. I could hear the baby starting to fuss in his crib, the kitchen still needed to be cleaned from dinner, laundry needed to be folded, and I wanted the house to be reasonably clean (note that I say reasonably). Nothing had gotten done during the day and I was anxious to get back downstairs to finish so I could relax. I tried to rush through his bath and bedtime routine but he stalled at every turn. He refusing to get out of the water, threw his toothbrush down the stairs, hid his PJs, wanted to play with his books instead of read them. What started out as a normal bedtime ended up with both of us in tears begging for sleep.
He might only be 2 but he can sense when I’m being pulled in a million directions and will roll out all the stops to pull me back to the present. As much as it stresses me out and makes me want to throw my own tantrum, he seems to know better than I do when I need to stop thinking at a hundred miles an hour and ground myself. He might not be the baby anymore but he still needs those times when he has my undivided attention, no distractions, and a few moments where it’s just us. There is a calm that settles over the room when you let go of everything and just settle into the moment. When I am stretched thin the last thing I want to do is put everything aside but when the world outside of his bedroom door stops pulling me away
he can relax and easily drift off to sleep I can bring myself back to center and remember what is really important.
He reminds me to be present and in that moment he is my rock.
As challenging as they are I need these difficult moments to see the silver lining and be thankful for what I have. They make the special moments, like our trip to the pumpkin patch, that much sweeter. Photos below.