Finn turns 2 next week. You know what this means, right? Shit is about to get crazy up in here.
In these past 10 months, the kid has been a learning, developing, vocabulary spewing, hair-growing cuteness machine. His mannerisms have produced an array of so-funny-you-can-die-laughing moments. I have (on more than one occasion) had to restrain myself from physically crushing him with love. I have also (on more than one occasion) wanted to throw him into the sea. The bitter sweet dichotomy of being a parent.
I was in a furniture shop with Finn yesterday, who had missed his afternoon sleep, and was wildly flinging himself across the floor, bolting from bunk-bed to bunk-bed bouncing on the mattresses, opening & closing chests of drawers, shrieking and ignoring all admonishments from me. (Children who don't sleep you see, become stark raving crackers). The shop assistant looked like she was going to faint. I had become THAT woman with THAT child.
"Oh, he hasn't had his nap today" I say sheepishly, hating myself as the very words come out of my mouth, knowing the shop assistant could give two shits about his sleep patterns and just wants the unruly brat to stop leaping on her furniture. I carry him, practically upside down, to the car where I strap him in like a wild animal and wait for my pounding heartbeat to slow down.
And here we are, at the pinnacle of toddlerhood, the terrible two's. I've been dreading this much like one dreads going for root canal, mostly because I know all the stories are true; I am no longer the fool who thinks "that will never by my kid" - my naive little self had a very big wake up call, oh, 2 years ago now?
This new stage of Finn's life plays itself out in various ways, most of which are adorable, like talking - there is no cuter thing on this green earth than a child learning to speak. And then there are the 'not so adorables', like tantrums. Finn's life is currently a whirling mass of frustration. Unrelenting. He wants to try everything but can't; he wants to say everything but doesn't have the words; he can't understand the world and all its intricacies and has only ONE way to express himself. Loudly and tearfully.
It's like a mini storm, so intense it raises the roof, rivers of tears, shouting and wailing, a child so bereft and inconsolable you don't know whether to run or hide. Of course you do neither but jeeee-zuz, it takes a guts full of courage to face the rage. Stay calm, don't shout, breathe, take it, let it wash through and over you like a freak wave. When it passes, and it does, you silently wish you still smoked and carry on.
Now, public tantrums! That's some next level shit right there. Finn had one recently where he threw himself prostrate on the stairs outside a restaurant. Some people stared. Others shifted uncomfortably, as if a bad smell had just entered the room. It was short-lived and luckily on the beach, so the crashing waves drowned out some of his yelling. The prevailing lesson from that however, is that society lacks empathy and can be unforgiving, which is only relevant, when you are on the receiving end.
And so it hits us. Life with a 2 year old is unfolding. For the first time ever, I have ordered parenting books off the internet to help guide me through these waters. If only Finn knew just how terrified we are, he would be laughing all the way to Clamber Club. But I think he is afraid too, of all these big, big feelings and everything that he can't understand, and so together we will negotiate this rocky terrain with hard hats and soft hearts for no-one is more loved than this little boy-monster.
No comments:
Post a Comment