Two much trouble?

My childless friends tend to coo when I speak of my 2 year old.  I can practically hear their eyes growing misty over the phone lines and can sometimes detect a soft lullaby in their exhale. My favorite question is , “What is he LIKE now?” Well. He’s…TWO. Sooo, he really enjoys quantum physics and composing concertos in his spare time. Mostly in the minor keys. He tends towards the melancholy. I am mightily tempted to respond with such an answer.


The reality of a toddler, though occasionally charming, is, in actuality, often simply exhausting. He likes Dora the Explorer, playing catch ( though he’s never actually caught a ball ), and occasionally enjoys licking his playmates in Sunday school. He often throws his shoes and socks off in a desperate attempt at unfettered freedom mere moments after we’ve struggled to squeeze his squirming pork chop feet into them. He favors my high heels, much to the chagrin of his father. His squeal is able to reach such a pitch that he can attract every canine within three miles. He can deftly fit cutlery, CDs, and chicken nuggets into our antiquated VCR and is able to supernaturally divine the location of all hidden magic markers for the joy of crib graffiti. We’ve stopped saving money for college and instead have begun a fund for future bail. I’m seeing vandalism in my crystal ball…


There’s a reason this age is known as “the terrible two’s”. The way these small people hit, bite, kick, and throw. That limp spaghetti impression they all seem to be born knowing how to do-you know the one, when they DON’T WANT to be picked up darn it!!


Noise. Diapers. Smells. Mess. Did I mention the smells? WHO in their right mind would sign up for this? Well, I guess…I would. Did. Four times as a matter of fact. There must be something to it.


Perhaps it’s the cherub chub in those rose painted cheeks. Remnants of an all too rapidly fading babyhood. The sticky hands that reach for you, little arms outstretched, when they want to be held. Maybe it’s that delicious spot in the crooks of their necks that might very well be the softest place on earth to nuzzle. The joyous laugh they let loose when you do this, completely unencumbered by worldly woes. This infectious sound opens up the heavens for one shining moment. And as you lay them down to sleep and watch them rub their long-lashed eyes, blinking ever slower, all the chaos of the day turns to indescribable peace. Oh. Yes. That’s what it’s all about. That’s the reason I embarked on this adventure we call “parenthood” to begin with.


Did I say “utterly exhausting”? I think what I meant was..utterly delightful.


We’ll just wait until later to discuss what happens when they turn three.`


About JJ's song

My freshman year of college, my English prof was fond of saying "A writer writes, always." I found him to be desperately profound until Wikipedia became a cultural staple some years later and I learned that was not an original quote, but rather one he had ripped off from that Billy Crystal movie "Throw Momma from the train." I admit this threw me. If you're going to quote a movie (and you're talking to someone whose entire household can quote "The Princess Bride" backwards and forwards), and you're not even going to credit said movie ( "HALLO! My name is Inigo Montoya.."), at least let it be a decent movie. I'm not hating on Billy. I'm just saying..not his best work. Could he not glean some inspiring gem from "When Harry met Sally"? But I digress. I love words. I love them in the nerdiest coke-bottle glasses, pocket protector kind of way. There's such a pure beauty, a ballet of cadence when you're writing and you've hit upon the exact right word producing the exact right sound...sweet, sweet alliteration. The marriage of that rise and fall, auditory ebb and flow of our spoken language creates a type of symphony as beautiful as can ever be composed. (My husband is rolling his eyes as he reads this. It should be noted here that he finds Jim Carrey hilarious. 'Nuff said.) I started writing shortly after returning to the real world from months of inpatient tratment for anorexia. I was targeting a specific audience, sure, but also working things out for myself. This branched out organically into purging myself (sorry) of angst related to childhood abuse and self harm, both highly prevalent in the eating disorder community. I still write pieces for abendingtree but rarely publish..such a perfectionist am I that when the aforementioned exact perfect word eludes me, my work will be tabled. Last January though. Last January I was raped. Last January I was raped and beaten up and tossed half naked in a stairwell. Last February I found out I was pregnant. Last September, six weeks early, we welcomed a 7lb. 7oz boy with huge blue eyes and fine, fuzzy dark hair and deep dimples. In him I see how God spared my life. With him I am reminded of when He used this tiny human to pull me from my ever darkening spiral. Watching my husband blow raspberries on his round little tummy and rock him to sleep, nuzzling his neck, I see the love Christ has for us. From our earliest beginnings. Such love. The fondness for Jim Carrey can be overlooked in these moments. Joshua. We named our son Joshua. It means: Jehovah saves. No kidding. How could we name him anything else? (Also, everyone else shot down the name Finn which I thought was super cute.) My newest blog will be our journey with him. It may be slow going, but I've got a start.. Writers lay our offerings humbly before our readers who we can only hope will be moved. Will laugh. Learn. Pray. Hurt. Wonder. Love. Grieve. Eat. LIVE. And heal. I hope at some point you'll do all of the above. Thank you for reading. In His truth. "Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart." William Wordsworth
This entry was posted in children, family, humor, kids, life, me, motherhood, musings, parenthood, parenting, Personal, Personal, raising kids, reflections, thoughts, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Two much trouble?

  1. Jeff B says:

    Funny how each of our kids is our favorite while they’re going through this chapter.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s