You are only two years old . . . you are only two years old . . . you are only two years old.
This has become my mantra over the last couple of weeks because it's becoming harder and harder to remember. You have the mental capacity of at least a three year old, and are physically the size of a four year old. On top of that, I see you regularly next to a newborn baby who is less than 1/3 of your size. This sometimes causes me to have expectations of you that are higher than they should be, given your age.
You are only two. You behave like a two year old. You make the mistakes two year old children make. You obey like a two year old does. You are completely normal. So, I'm doing my best to remember that when I tell you to pick up your toys, it's completely normal for you to ignore me the first five times. And when I ask you to please not touch the computer, that it's normal for it to result in a time out. And when I tell you it's time for bed, it's normal for you to run away yelling, "I NOT SLEEPY!" And when I find a pile of previously folded laundry scattered everywhere around the living room and kitchen . . . that's right, it's normal.
I don't always respond well to your two-ness. The other day when I was trying to take you and your brother out of the house by myself for the first time, I was coaxing you to put on your coat and you kept ripping it off because you were sure it would be too tight in your car seat. So, I yelled at you. Worse than I've yelled at you before.
"JACKSON! WILLIAM! LUKE! SIT STILL AND PUT YOUR COAT ON NOW!"
You started crying. I started crying. Ben was already crying. It was a mess. But you did obey as a result of my yelling. Later that day, you asked, "Mama, don't yell at me anymore, ok?" Ugh.
You are obsessed with television . . . which shouldn't be all that surprising, given that you're my son. Before I know it, you'll be handing me a schedule of what you'd like recorded on the tivo. You constantly ask to watch your shows . . . Little Einsteins, Handy Manny, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and most recently, Sesame Street. And it's so funny when you do it, because you always ask in a whisper, "Cam I watch a show?" It's barely audible, but I always know what you're asking because it's the only thing you'll ask so quietly. If I say no, you stomp and cry and plead. "JUST ONE EPISODE, MAMA?!"
I'll admit that since we've been home with Ben, I've given in more often. In fact, I use television as a bribe sometimes to get you to do what I need you to do. I let you watch three shows in a row yesterday in exchange for you sitting still for just ONE good picture with your brother. I'm not necessarily proud of this . . . but I did what I had to do.
A lot of things have become more lax since we brought Ben home. For instance, you had a pop tart for breakfast last week. Seriously. You've eaten more junk in the last month or so than you have in the rest of your life combined. We've started to make up for it this week and will hopefully resume a more balanced diet, but I definitely have let things slide more than I used to.
I guess I write about these things this month to let you know that I'm not perfect. I know that you already know that, but I want to be sure that you know I'm aware of my deficits. I don't always do everything the way I'm supposed to do it. I don't always treat you the way I should. As far as parents go, I think I'm a pretty good Mom, but I definitely mess up . . . a lot. Having two kids has often exacerbated my lack patience over the last two weeks and I have probably messed up more than I used to.
I'm sorry for that. I know that it's normal for a parent to mess up like this sometimes, but it doesn't make me any less sorry. I love you, Jack . . . even when you touch my computer and run away from me or are in time out. I love you now with all of the challenges that come with you being two and will love you when I'm facing all of the challenges that come with you being twelve. And I will continue to mess up. And I will continue to love you.
Love,
Mama
P.S. I let you watch an entire episode of Sesame Street while eating a bowl of cheese-its just so I could write this letter. You can thank me later.
1 comment:
Hey Sara...just curious...when Jack is old enough to read and understand what he is reading, are you going to give him the letters you write to him each month/year? I would assume the older he gets, that you may only write them once a year...or am I wrong, will you keep writing them each month? And are they actually written down anywhere besides your blog? If so, where did you record them?
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