Wednesday 19 August 2015

The Toddler

You may know him as Thing 4 or Leif, but lately, I have been referring to him as the Toddler, and when I say it there is a hint of fear mixed with lots of frustration in it. Don't get me wrong, I am absolutely in love with Leif, but lately, well the past 8 weeks to be exact, he has been extremely difficult to deal with. I don't know if he has been like this for quite some time and I simply did not notice it because I was so infatuated with him, or, as I suspect, the moment Harriet was born he immediately morphed into a toddler and became a mess-making, tantrum-thrower who no longer answers when his name is called and who has developed a love for climbing on furniture, a fascination with all things dangerous and a desire to be a dinosaur. He is constantly one step ahead of me, and I feel like he his totally running the show here, while I am left behind feeling torn, tattered and exhausted from his wake of destruction.Case in point: as a I sat down this morning to write my blog post for today, I noticed that the letter P is missing from my computer keyboard. Leeeiiifff! 

If you are wondering how I am typing this post without the P key, well, thankfully there is a little knob I can push but it definitely throws me off my flow.

Leif sure keeps me on my toes lately, which is why I have been trying to take him on little adventures each day to minimize the mess he makes in the house, to wear off some of his boundless energy, and to prevent myself from simply letting him brain drain in front of the television (which would make my life so much easier and is so very tempting to do and has to be resorted to on occasion). So, even though I was healing from a c-section and even though I am exhausted from being up with him all night  . . .

yes, I did say him! Harriet is a wonderful sleeper but for the past week Leif has been getting up for an hour or two each night. I had another child like that by the name of Elliot, and so yeah, I am afraid. Very afraid!

Anyhoo . . . where was I?

I still force myself each day to get up, get my act together and head out into the world with the two-under-two crew even though all I want to do is lie in bed nursing Harriet, while drinking a Coke and reading a book or binge watching Grand Hotel because staying at home with the Toddler is anything but restful and usually leaves me frothing at the mouth with my head spinning.

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Case in point: moments ago, while I was writing, Leif was happily watching one of his morning shows and Harriet was sleeping on her playmat when Leif was suddenly overcome with a desire to give his sister a giant hug. As I stood up to tell him to get off of his sleeping baby sister, the cord was pulled out from the laptop (which no longer has a working battery) and the screen went black. My heart sank as I said goodbye to the post I feared was lost forever and I ran over to pick him up off of Harriet. When I picked him up, I discovered he was soaking wet. I scanned the room and noticed a giant puddle on the coffee table, which was made from a cup of water someone had left there last night. I tickled him and scooped him up to change him for the third time this morning (I kid you not and he has only been up for 3 hours!). While I was discarding his dirty diaper into the diaper pail, Leif got into the jar of bum cream that I had left beside him on my bed and covered himself and Derrick's pillow with it . . . Hello! I am not a newbie here either. I am the almost forty, mother of five children. You would think I could stay one step ahead of a person who has been here on earth for a mere 20 months, but nope . . . .

I have to apologize, I did not intend for this post to become a rant about my darling little Leif, and yes, I did have a positive purpose for this post (why must there be so many P's in that sentence . . . tee hee!), so let's get to it:

As tired as I am, as difficult as it is to pack up two babies to get out for a morning or an afternoon, it truly is rewarding. Out in the sunshine, among other moms and children, and in a space designed for little people to run, explore and make messes in like playgrounds, splash pads, beaches and toy rooms at the library, I fall in love with the Toddler again. My frustrations dissolve and my heart bursts beneath the weight of his overwhelming cuteness as I see him climb up the slide, squeal with laughter as streams of water spray his face, bury his dinosaurs beneath the sand and ask "where did he go?" for the hundredth time, and build forts with the giant Lego pieces at the library. Away from the coloured-on walls, the trails of toilet paper strewn throughout the house, the puddles of melted popsicles and the looming piles of dirty laundry and dishes, I reconnect with Leif and recognize his fascination with and his need to engage with the sensory-rich world we live in that is completely new to him in the only way a twenty month old can: head-on with no thought or care for the consequences.

I have said it time and time again, and I can, in all honesty, say it again:

Toddlers are the best!




















 

I wonder what we will do today?








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