My baby is going to be two soon and I get tired of hearing about the “terrible twos” or the look of remorse on people’s faces when they find out I have a two year old. Two can be a trying age for parents, but imagine what it’s like for a two year old. These little ones are growing and doing so much for the short two years they have been alive. I feel blessed and honored to have her so I wrote a post of what a two year old, like my daughter, may say to their parents if they could.
I am not a nuisance.
I want your attention because I need you.
I am learning.
I have to test what’s around me to find out how it works.
Let me drop things and make messes.
I won’t know how messes are made until I have made some. (Oh, and I don’t understand gravity.)
I need to explore.
I won’t learn or understand if you contantly yell at me for exploring my environment.
I will throw tantrums.
The world can be overwhelming for someone who’s only been in the world two years. I also don’t understand all of my emotions. These things aren’t easily understood by adults either.
Don’t expect perfection out of me. I can’t be held to an unrealistic standards unobtainable for even you.
I can be demanding.
I get mad when I don’t get my way and I think everything is “mine!”. How do I know who is in charge and how to share unless I am taught those things?
I need a nap!!!!
I’m learning a new language and how to use my body. I’m also growing very fast. All of this makes me tired! Please, give me a break and let me rest!
The world is a very big place for me and I need a break from it.
People and places can overwhelm someone as small as me. I often need to spend time in a familiar and comfortable place.
Don’t forget that everything around me is four times my size.
Sometimes it’s nice for me to be in a safe environment just the right size for me. Why not buy me my own chair or a toy at my height? It helps me learn how things work at my own level and it makes me feel special.
I spend lots of time climbing.
I have to climb to use those big things around me but keep a close eye on me because I think it’s my job to conquer everything in the house!
Stop acting shocked when I’m upset when I don’t get the rest I need.
I’m too little to keep up with your pace. My emotional state often reflects my physical state. I feel better when I can rest when I’m tired, don’t you?
Look at how much I am doing AND I’M ONLY 2!!!
I am an amazing work of art, sometimes you just have to stand back and look at how beautiful I am!
In my two years of life, making you happy is the greatest thing! Let me know you are happy with me.
I like attention.
I’ll behave well or poorly to get it, so you may want to recognize the good things I do to get it.
You are my whole world!
Really, you are. There is a reason I want you to give me all of your attention. You are my first true love!
Spend more time praising me when I do something right rather than solely scolding me when I do something wrong. Praising me when I do well teaches me that you are paying attention. I learn that positive choices mean positive results and I have the ability to make others happy by my good choices.
Let me spend time independently.
Don’t hover over me. Let me wander around a safe environment. I need to learn that I can do things on my own and feel the accomplishment of doing things independently.
Allow me to fail.
I need to know life isn’t always fair. I know you love me but let me fail so I can learn to try again and not give up. I will grow faster than you realize and I need to be able to graciously accept defeat when necessary and know failing isn’t the worst thing that can happen to me.
Remind me that you are looking out for me.
Remind me to zip up my coat, clean my room, and do my chores. Keep after me because I expect you to. Be my parent first and then my friend. I will have a lot of friends in my childhood years but you will be my longest friend, just give me time to grow and realize it.
Make sure I know you love me, even when I fail, refuse to listen, or disappoint you. I’m not perfect. I will never be perfect but your love for me through anything feels pretty perfect.
Today I watched you stand in front of your mirror, your face barely reaching above the top of the dresser – in one hand you hold your plastic curling iron, pretending to fix your long, dark hair for whatever pretend adventure you and your baby sister have planned for today. I know you both will grow up way too fast. I imagine you both crowding in that same mirror that will someday be too small for both of you to use. One day you will have no use for the plastic curling iron and pretend makeup you adore now. You will leave it and your childhood behind. Soon, you will quietly whisper about the boy or boys you are preparing to see. I know one day you may not want to tell me about your dates, and especially the young men that await you, but I’ll still be there, even if I’m still just watching you from the doorway.
Right now a young man can be anything you imagine. He can be as handsome and brave as one in a functional movie, but someday the choices of whom you will want to be with will be more complicated than you realize. I want talk to you about when you give your heart to another person. Your heart is beautiful and precious. I can only hope that you know exactly what you deserve. You won’t learn the majority of it from me, you will learn the most about men from the most important man in your life right now, your dad. I hope when you decide to date, you are willing to wait for someone who is as wonderful as your father.
I had a hard road before I met the man that I’d love forever. Once we met, it didn’t take me long to fall in love with him. It isn’t hard to love your dad, he has a generous smile and a warm personality. Of course, I thought he was the most handsome man I had met but it wasn’t just those things that made me fall in love with him. It was also his generosity, his willingness to give of himself selflessly, and his big, big heart. When we were together, it was like I found a missing part of myself, the best piece of myself. I knew quite soon he and I were supposed to be together.
When he and I met, dated, and fell in love, he demonstrated qualities that assured me he was a trustworthy man. His actions defined him as a man and who he would be as my husband. I was his equal, his partner, and I never worried about what he would do once he held my heart. He didn’t just compliment me, he helped build my confidence. He didn’t just talk with me, he had a genuine interest in me. This is all important because when the time comes, you will want to know if you are with someone who is just as interested in you as he is himself. You will know the relationship will last through the best and worst times because he made time to know you and hopefully you will have done the same. All of this is important because bad times in a relationship will inevitably come. If what is supposed to be the best part of a relationship brings out the worst in someone, don’t be surprised what the worst times in a relationship will bring out. You will want someone who cares about your well being as well as his own during hardships. I know because your Daddy and I have been through a lot together. When we vowed to love one another better or for worse, we didn’t realize how important that vow would be.
We have faced an artillery of difficult circumstances. For example, we never anticipated having a child with a life altering medical condition, or that I would also be diagnosed with one, all within ten years of our marriage. Both diagnoses bring stress to our marriage in various ways. It is in these times that I have seen the best, not worst, in your father. He has been an example of how to truly love another. He gives of himself and his love selflessly and meets each challenge with understanding and prayer. When there is nothing but pain and hurt on the faces of those he loves, he is patient and non-judgmental. It may sound easy, but it isn’t. It is hard to smile when there is pain inside and I know he hurts too. It’s not easy to be the one person an entire family looks to for guidance and your dad does it so well. When he smiles and says, “It will get better,” and you can have confidence in his words. He can tell me he loves me and thinks I more beautiful than the day we met and although I don’t believe I am, I believe him.
So girls, one day I hope you will wait and seek a man much like your dad. He isn’t perfect, no one is but he’s pretty close. We are all very flawed but love and the love of someone who truly loves you can make a relationship that feels nearly perfect. Until the day you leave us for a family of your own, we want to love you the same…….. imperfectly perfect
Here we are, my youngest son and me. It was as uneventful as it looks. We were waiting in the van for Daddy to come out of the grocery store. My buddy said he didn’t want to go in so he sat with Mommy. He did get anxious while we waited so I decided to distract him with one of his favorite activities, taking his picture. “Cheeeeese!!!” he said while sporting his best cheesy grin. Of course I didn’t like how I look in any of the photos. My hair has been falling out at breakneck speed lately. I also noticed his hair was getting a little long. I am glad his medication hasn’t been doing to his hair what my medication has done to mine. Anyway, he was overdue for his haircut. Although, he’s been doing better at getting a haircut, I thought I’d let him go a little longer before we’d give him one. Autism and haircuts don’t mix well at our house.
That’s how life is for us, things like a haircut that seem simple usually have a story behind it, like this photograph. What you don’t see in this photograph is how swollen and painful my knees were that day and how bad my shoulder hurt. My Rheumatoid Arthritis was causing me a lot of grief. The only other time I had left the house that week was to pick up my oldest son from school. By this time, I was anxious to find any reason to leave the house.
Leaving the house wasn’t what it used to be and I was wondering if I should apply for a handicap placard. You see my cutie in this photo has had a rough life. Here he is at the end of a very rough summer. He has been weaker than usual because his seizures had been increasing. He didn’t want to go in because he had a few seizures that day and he was weak and a bit tired. I wondered if I should get a placard for the times he may want to go in and a long walk to the store would be too hard for him. What about me? Some days I can barely make it down my hall to the bathroom but I worry because neither of us “look” handicap. I had a crazy vision where someone deciding to do their own sort of “justice” was yelling at me for parking in a handicap spot as I unload my kids since I may not give the world some sort of visual confirmation of our need for a placard. There is no membership card for a chronic illness club. I guess it’s best I wait. We’d be okay a while longer, I guess. I try not to take the kids out alone, it’s too hard on my body. So I thought about another topic; how sad this summer was and how we really didn’t do anything fun. I apparently wasn’t being very positive on this day.
My thoughts were interrupted by my son spitting. Yes, he has a bad habit. I’m not surprised. He has autism and epilepsy, and I have Tuberous Sclerosis to thank for all of that. He does things to make his Mom squirm, like most kids do, it’s just a bit harder to convince him to give up a bad habit. I try to be as patient as I can because I know he has a lot going on. I am not the master of patience yet, but I was getting a lot of practice in the parking lot this day.
He wasn’t interested in much that evening, including his iPad. When we are waiting for a long stretch I usually play a movie for the kids. We got this van specifically for the DVD players. Unfortunately they stopped working. Not great news for me. It’s helpful for times like these when I am at the receiving end of spit. There would be no way we’d be able to fix the DVD system so I tried not to think about it. It would just make me mad. I pulled out the next best thing to the DVD players, my phone. Technology can sometimes be grand and seeing himself on my phone is always grand for him. We took our picture together. We are two peas in a pod, he and I….
The course of my disease is eerily mirroring the one he has already taken. He took a medication that required eye exams every three months to check for vision loss. I am supposed to do the same but we don’t have vision insurance, so I am hoping for the best. He moved on to another medication after that one failed. It is used to treat cancer. He has to have labs done every three months to make sure the rest of his body is okay with the medication. I’m right behind him with Methotrexate and looking to see if I can start, and most importantly afford, to continue to take it after the first of the year. With all of the gloomy thoughts, I’m thankful his smile can put a smile on my face.
I flipped through the photos we took and wondered if my face looked a bit more round than usual. I had been on predisone for a while and I’d rather blame the medication for any noticeable fullness in my face instead of my late night snacking. I noticed how tiny my son looks in the picture. We were at the store so his Daddy could go in to buy him his breakfast shakes. It’s the only thing he will consume consistently. We buy them to supplement his diet. It isn’t cheap but it helps him maintain his weight.
That reminded me to check our bank account. “I hope there is enough in there to buy what he needs,” I thought. I sighed and took a long look at the summer sun. It will be sad to see it go. I wished we both felt good enough to enjoy it. We did miss a lot but we do have this picture together. We can certainly look the part but rarely does anyone really know what’s behind a photo.
There is usually a story behind our photos, as there are stories behind many things in our life that no one knows about. I’m smiling but I am always thinking about our health, money, the future, and sometimes regret. I try not to be negative but it’s hard not to be on occasion. The great thing is that he can always find a way to remind me how to be happy despite the flurry of thoughts that often bring my spirits down. It’s as simple for him as taking a photo with his very best smile. Although it won’t be that easy for me, I am certainly going to give it a try. Someday we may look back at this photograph among others, and I want him to know there was a genuine smile on my face, and he was one of the reasons why. I am blessed for every last moment, even uneventful ones like this time when he and I can take a moment, forget our troubles, and smile. “Cheeeeese!!!”
It’s a rainy Monday morning and a very pregnant woman arrives with her husband, bags in hand, at the hospital. Today is the day she will welcome their new child into the world. She can hardly contain her excitement. She also can’t hide her obvious worries. Despite all the birthing and breastfeeding classes, as a first-time mother, she still has lots of questions. No matter how many times she was reassured that her motherly instincts would kick in once the baby arrived, she felt no indication of it. Before all of that, she will finally experience childbirth. From the time she announced her pregnancy, every mom she knew shared every birthing horror story with her. All these thoughts swirled in her head as she was lead back to her birthing suite.
Her heart skipped a little as she looked at the rocking chair where she’d soon be rocking her baby. Her suite had a large tub, big windows and a cheery feeling. Soon her bags were put away, she was changed, and resting in the bed. The staff began checking her vital signs, asking questions, and preparing for the forthcoming arrival. She felt a sense of peace come over her. Over the next few hours, she was encouraged to walk the halls to help speed up labor. She thought this would be the perfect time to visit the nursery where they would be bringing the baby shortly after the birth. As she approached the window she gasped at what she saw, snakes… There were snakes in the nursery slithering inches from newborn infants. “What’s going on here?” she cried.
“It’s okay,” a nursed comforted. “We have had a snake infestation for years and we have never been able to completely eliminate the pests.”
“Why wasn’t I told of this ahead of time?” asked the now crying mother.
“No one ever talks about it so we have learned to ignore the problem. Besides, who wants to hear that in birthing class, right?” she chuckled.
The mother stood stunned in front of the nursery window. The air escaped from her mouth when her husband turned to her and said, “It should be fine, just go back to the room.”
“Yes”, the nurse agreed, “very rarely will one of the snakes actually bite one of the newborns.”
The mother, now completely dismayed, wandered back to her room. She couldn’t understand what was happening. She certainly couldn’t have been the only one to notice the invaders, yet the birthing suites were full and babies were making their way down to the nursery. The new mom now had a choice, remain quiet or speak up. If she spoke, she wondered who would believe her and worried if she would sound crazy. She wondered if this was all in her head and became too scared to speak up so she decided to take her chances with the snakes.
This story itself may sound crazy but something just as vile is invading birth experiences everywhere. No one would allow snakes to roam freely in a nursery but there is a very real problem that does happen every day, it’s Postpartum Depression (PPD). And here is the reality; Postpartum Depression is just as sly as a snake lingering about a nursery. It’s waiting to strike and squeeze the life out of what should be a beautiful moment in a women’s life, the birth of a child. It can strike so quickly that it can even interrupt the bonding experience between a mother and child shortly after birth. Yet, many people are still tight lipped about PPD and some women don’t feel like they can be open about it. These women often feel brushed off, just like the mother in this story, and end up deciding to take unnecessary chances with an invader rather than speak up. This is why the discussion about PPD needs to happen and turning a blind eye to PPD can no longer be acceptable.
I struggled with depression after my first son was born and anxiety with the subsequent three. I was fortunate to have a supportive husband and a knowledgeable family physician that worked with me when the hospital and gynecologist failed. After his birth, I had experienced unexpected complications and by the time I was released from my six day hosptial stay on a mere couple hours sleep, I felt like I was falling apart. I began to sicken over the reality that I was expected to care for my child alone when I felt no will to take care of myself. I felt worthless as a mother and the overwhelming feelings of guilt and shame were crushing. My husband felt very alone as I was deteriorating before him and he had no idea what he could do to help. I was a shell of myself and I couldn’t make myself better. Thankfully I had a common sense family physician who removed me from the counterproductive medication I was given at the hosptial and a supportive family. They assured me that my feelings were common among many mothers and in time, I would feel like myself again. It took me weeks before I begin to feel better. Getting the proper help and listening to my body was a must. I had to realize that it was okay to open up and ask for help, but it wasn’t easy. Like many mothers, I didn’t want to admit that I needed help because it felt like if I wasn’t able to care for my child, it meant that I didn’t love him. Or, others would judge me and deem me a bad mother.
Over the years I have personally witnessed other women struggle with PPD in various degrees, most more severe than my personal experience. The biggest issue I saw was the judgement these women faced. Comments like, “Shake it off,” and “You just have to get on with life” invalidated their struggle and made them afraid to reach out. PPD has nothing to do with how strong or weak a woman is anymore than someone dealing with physical pain. If a woman broke her leg on a icy sidewalk, she would be encouraged to seek medical care, so the same woman suffering deep emotional distress cannot be asked to brush off her emotional pain and steer free of a qualified professional.
Pregnancy and childbirth are wonderful and natural. The changes that has to happen to a woman’s body to sustain another life is astounding but it can also come with a price. Women experience very real hormonal and physical changes before, during, and after pregnancy. It is very important to emphasize this: hormones and the effect they have on a woman are real! With all the recognition of all the amazing things a woman’s body can do, why is there still a stigma around the emotional changes that can happen during any of her body’s natural processes?
Real change about PPD needs to happen long before a women ever gets pregnant. Healthy conversations about how hormones can effect mood and cause depression need to couple the with the discussions explaining the physical processes of womanhood. Young women need to know that jokes and sneers about a woman’s monthly cycle further add to the problem and she should never feel ashamed of it. Young women need to know they are supported and loved even when they are struggling with the real emotional effects of hormone fluctuations. So if the time comes, she can feel like she is able to be honest and speak up about how she feels.
PPD and Depression is real and treatable. Seek help and discuss depression with your daughters (and sons). Don’t feel ashamed to seek help. New moms also need a friend in which they can speak to with honesty without judgement. Please be aware of some signs of PPD:
Feelings of sadness, hopelessness, anxiety, and emptiness.
Lack of concentration.
No interest in every day things.
Loss of appetite or weight loss, a sudden weight gain is also possible.
There is hope but we have to start talking about it. We have to discuss it often and we have to support each other. When we fail to acknowledge the mere existence of PPD and depression, we are all failing.
My disabled son is seven and he is the second oldest of my four children. My special needs son was diagnosed with Tuberous Sclerosis Complex at three months of age. A few of his secondary diagnoses include epilepsy, autism, and intermittent explosive disorder. He is considered multi-disabled. As he grew, his delays became more apparent to all of us, even to my when my oldest son. He and my youngest son are 17 months apart and it was very exciting for him to have a little brother of his own. It didn’t take long for him to notice that his little brother didn’t play with him as he anticipated, and that his little brother was also sick.
At four months, my youngest son developed a rare and catastrophic form of epilepsy called Infantile Spasms. These deceivingly innocent looking seizures occur in clusters and are very hard to control. He would have multiple episodes a day and the seizures would be only a few seconds apart and could last up to fifteen minutes. All of our best attempts at controlling the spasms eventually failed. This made it hard for him to reach developmental milestones. His brain was just too bombarded with epileptic activity to make any significant developmemtal progress. So as both my boys grew, the developmental gap also grew. My oldest would be playing ball, stacking blocks, or drawing and my youngest could only watch. His body was weak and he had limited mobility. He also had significant speech delays. It was obviously hard for all of us, but especially for his big brother who wanted to play with the “little buddy” he eagerly anticipated. How could I explain to a three year old why his little brother couldn’t play or talk? How could I help him grasp such a complicated subject in a simple way?
My oldest was very familiar with his room. We spent alot of our time playing there. I first asked him where all of his favorite toys were and he happily showed me. Next, I blindfolded him and asked him to bring me those same items. He did find and bring me what I asked but it took him a while and he needed my help. After that and a few laughs, I explained, “Your brother is just like you, he just sees things differently. It may be harder for him but he knows what’s around him, just like you knew your room even with the blindfold on. And just like you had to take your time, he has to take his time to do all the things he would like to do. You needed me to give you directions on where to go and we have to do the same for him. You eventually got to your favorite things and he will too. You are one of your brother’s favorite things and he will find you. Give him time.” I also reminded him that even though our experiment was hard, we still laughed and he needed to laugh with his brother, even when it gets hard. He smiled and I hoped something stuck but every day from then on I still remind him, and all four of my children, of one or all of these things when life gets hard, give it time, offer help, give lots of love, and never forget to laugh.