*there is a plea for advice, but not till the end of the post — if you can wait it out that long.* 😉
when my almost-one-year-old dropped down to one nap a day, i gave up the dreams and silly notions that he might be one of those children who naps till kindergarten starts. even so, i never dreamed that at two-and-a-half, he would stop napping completely. and that it would coincide with me being in my eighth month of pregnancy, tired and big and apparently immune to the effects of caffeine. and it also being the hottest time of year, making our outside excursions either very few or very exhausting and NOT FUN. and i love him so much! he is saying the funniest things and using strange voices and charming me with his eyes and cheeks and kisses. he’s giving hugs and saying “thank you” unprompted. in the morning, after he hasn’t seen me all night, he says “hi mama!! i yooooouuu, mama” (i love you), and it totally melts me.
but he is also giving me a run for my money — and sometimes winning the race. (at least it feels like it). he’s throwing five-star screaming tantrums. and running away from me in parking lots. and needing to be dragged places, kicking and screaming. and jumping on me (and my belly) when i have clearly told him to stop. and throwing anything he finds on the floor (books, toys, cups, food, pillows, anything). and being bored by or having a tantrum for every fun thing i can think of to do. and kicking the windows and walls surrounding his bed during “naptime”. and giving me a mischievous grin and flashing those big baby browns while deliberately doing something i just asked him not to. and using up every ounce of my energy and patience daily. i cry a number of times each day, just because i’m tired and overwhelmed and simply do not want to address his behavior for one. more. minute.
this is life. i know this is life with a two-year-old, particularly if you’ve been blessed with one who is physically expressive and loud and strong-willed. and i do see it as a blessing. i have always been so thankful for the ways in which God shaped and made Jones, knowing with a mother’s perspective, i suppose, that there was purpose and reason in the way he was created. i feel so privileged to be his mommy and to get to be the one who will help teach him and mold him into who God has planned for him to be. but this privilege is so very tiring and emotionally exhausting.
some days i fail to remember that although all of my energy is used in being pregnant and being jones’s mom (let’s not even mention daily household stuff and japanese lessons), i still have exactly what i need to finish the day. no more, no less — just what i need. a lot of days, i find myself sitting on the little stool in the kitchen, praying desperately for patience to handle his energy and his screaming and his requests for just 20 more minutes. and i get it. miraculously, i get it. i told bryan that i felt i was entering a season of life that might be characterized by begging Jesus for help every five minutes. he said that if you were going to be somewhere that often, Jesus’s feet was perhaps the best place.
he stays in his room, in his bed, for at least an hour during “naptime”, for which i am grateful. it’s a noisy hour, but its an hour nonetheless. i am breaking my self-imposed video-time-limit to ensure a little more mindless rest-time for myself after his hour is up. i’m a little nervous about feeling this overwhelmed before i even add a newborn to the mix, so here’s the plea: any ideas for dealing with crazy, loud, rambunctious little boys? keeping them entertained and stimulated? (a fair share of his patience-sucking habits come out when he’s bored — screaming, jumping on me, etc.) any thoughts for the days with a newborn and an almost-three-year-old? any encouragement or commiseration? anything?? anyone??
one thing is certain: i can’t imagine life without Jones, the good and the hard.