8.22.16
Photo By: Tatiana Zellner
6 Lessons I've Learned Since Having a 2 Year Old
Written By: Tatiana Zellner
I can’t believe my kid turned 2 today. That’s a KID. No more “Oh my baby is 6 months, 2 weeks, carry the 1, plus 3 lunar cycles, etc.” Just 2. It doesn’t feel like 730 days has passed since I was in a hospital room snapping at Brian because he was reading the contractions monitor like an amateur news reporter live on the scene (yep, I am quite aware of the intensity of the situation, but thanks for that good field reporting). I remember sitting in my postpartum room falling in love with this little person who had practiced Tae Bo in my womb for the previous 40 weeks (heck of a roundhouse kick if you’re wondering). I also remember being terrified at the thought of the fact that I was now someone’s mom (I actually have to raise this person into a functioning member of society when I can’t even get the date right on a PowerPoint deck…ok, yeah sure no problem).
Fast forward to 2016 and now I have a smart, funny, strong-willed toddler (with a very healthy set of lungs I might add). What’s surprising is I didn’t expect to have so many feels at 2 – I’m simultaneously mourning the loss of my baby while excited to see my little ‘big girl’ grow up (no more bottles, no more jammies with snaps aka some type of evil IQ test determined to steal your dignity, no more pea purees or mustard seed poop). I, like every other mother on the planet, still have no idea what I’m doing, and if you’re at Target it’s probably my kid that you hear screaming on the top of her lungs. And yep, there’s me pushing the cart along as if I’m completely oblivious to the meltdown ensuing in front of me (one little ear-piercing tantrum isn’t gonna keep me from big Cartwheel savings, because c’mon, #priorities).
I never expected to learn so much from someone who can’t even control her bodily functions (stay tuned for that next episode of Tales from the Toilet). Before another year blinks by, I’m reflecting on some lessons that I’ve learned her past 2 years of life. Actually, saying “learned” in a past tense is implies that the learning has already taken place – I have a feeling these will in in progress for some time (read: the rest of my life)…and that’s ok with me.
Fast forward to 2016 and now I have a smart, funny, strong-willed toddler (with a very healthy set of lungs I might add). What’s surprising is I didn’t expect to have so many feels at 2 – I’m simultaneously mourning the loss of my baby while excited to see my little ‘big girl’ grow up (no more bottles, no more jammies with snaps aka some type of evil IQ test determined to steal your dignity, no more pea purees or mustard seed poop). I, like every other mother on the planet, still have no idea what I’m doing, and if you’re at Target it’s probably my kid that you hear screaming on the top of her lungs. And yep, there’s me pushing the cart along as if I’m completely oblivious to the meltdown ensuing in front of me (one little ear-piercing tantrum isn’t gonna keep me from big Cartwheel savings, because c’mon, #priorities).
I never expected to learn so much from someone who can’t even control her bodily functions (stay tuned for that next episode of Tales from the Toilet). Before another year blinks by, I’m reflecting on some lessons that I’ve learned her past 2 years of life. Actually, saying “learned” in a past tense is implies that the learning has already taken place – I have a feeling these will in in progress for some time (read: the rest of my life)…and that’s ok with me.
- Enough with the mom guilt stuff. I know it’s cool nowadays to feel guilty because you’re not perfect, or “doing it right” as a mom. And given everyone has an opinion on what doing it “right” means, it’s likely that to someone, somewhere, I’m probably doing it wrong. Well, call it confidence or apathy, but I’m done with the guilt stuff. Sometimes my kid eats homemade kale chips and I feel like I deserve a gold star. Sometimes she lives on cheeze-its and ketchup. Most nights I cuddle with her before bed. Some nights I have to cuddle via FaceTime if I’m traveling for work. Sometimes she looks like a Gap ad. Other times she is wearing Carter’s clearance items that she has clearly grown out of (look, those pants are now capris and are so tight I can see your bone marrow, awesome!) I don’t feel guilty –it’s a waste of time, doesn’t give me any special points and is a distraction from focusing on my job as a mom (and hey, if she won’t eat my kale chips more for me).
- Stop worrying about the muffin top. If I could go back to my 20s I would seriously flick myself in the forehead for wasting so much time on how I looked. So many days worrying about “oh look at that fat roll”, or “look at the muffin top in these jeans”. Biggest. Waste. Of. Time. I’m learning to appreciate what my body can do (oh you know, like give BIRTH) instead of what it looks like. I’m thankful that my body is strong enough to carry heavy groceries AND a 30 lb. toddler thrashing with rage because I won’t let her walk up 3 flights of stairs. My kid doesn’t see my body, my kid sees me and my relationship with my body. What’s ironic is changing my mindset to come from a place of gratitude about my body has allowed me to be in the best shape of my life, because I look at taking care of myself as a blessing, not a punishment. Now don’t get me wrong, this is still a struggle and I am thankful that low rise jeans aren’t in style anymore (although those really high waisted jeans also kind of freak me out- I feel like a marsupial), I am much more cognizant of when that voice in my head is saying something demeaning about how I look and I can have a fighting chance to stop it in its tracks. I also realize I have a greater responsibility to teach my kid that she is much more than what the scale says, and she will learn from my example.
- Get in the picture already. Most new moms could get a gig at TMZ for our ability to capture every little “cute” thing our kid does and ogling over every picture (and when that’s not enough we put them up on social media so others can do the same, in spite of promising yourself you would never do that before kids – guilty as charged). But as good as we are, how good are we about getting in the picture ourselves? I am terrible about this. As a photography enthusiast, it’s hard for me to remember to get on the other side of the lens. It doesn’t matter if I don’t have on makeup or if Brian isn’t the best photographer (his pictures MAY have gotten some Simon Cowell worthy judgement from time to time). I need to get in the picture and preserve these moments in time and have something to look back on instead of the ghost behind the lens.
- Be present. This is a tough one. I get distracted. Whether it’s work, some buzzing on my phone, a running to-do list or grocery list in my head, or wondering about some random fact that probably needs to be searched via WebMD (don’t get me started). It’s easy to get distracted and miss what’s important. What I’ve realized is just like anything else that works, if I want to be present, I have to be mindful and have a plan to make it happen – I can’t leave it to chance. If I leave my phone at home when we go to dinner, or on family walks, guess what, one less distraction. If I set time aside during the week to plan for meals, I might be able to read Llama Llama Red Pajama (for the 478th time in a row. if anyone is counting) without worrying about the grocery list. At this point, unless it passes the Rocking Chair Test (e.g., would I really care more about that when I’m old and gray in my rocker, which I plan to bedazzle), then the distraction isn’t worth it.
- We’re literally all toddlers. It’s easy to judge a toddler and trust me I have had my fair share as serving as the Honorable Judge Judy of toddlers in my house. The screaming. The back arching, the lack of all good judgement, reason, or any rational sense – it’s mind blowing. But sometimes I sit back and think – how often do we as adults get made because we don’t get what we want? How often do we refuse help and then get frustrated when it doesn’t work? How often do we not want to do what we’re asked, or want to avoid what’s good for us because we think we know better? So we may not thrash our bodies around and scream Mariah Carey octaves, but you definitely get the idea. Looking at my 2 year olds’ tantrums from this perspective been a good (daily) reminder not to sweat the small stuff and to empathize and be patient with her when she is having a dramatic breakdown because I won’t let her sprinkle sunflower seeds on the carpet like Britney’s pixie dust in the Lucky video.
- Keep God on Speed Dial. I don’t know how I underestimated what a spiritual journey motherhood would be, but it IS. I knew raising a child with a heart for Christ was a huge responsibility that I didn’t take lightly, but motherhood has tested my faith and continues to strengthen my relationship with God in ways I never imagined. Making time for God can be challenging when there’s so much going on, but that time is crucial. I’ve learned to lean on Him for the worries (which btw, who knew there could be SO many things to worry about)! I’ve also learned that when I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing, I can look to my Heavenly father as the ultimate example of how to parent and to love. If He can be so gracious and longsuffering with all of us adult “toddlers”, surely I can make it through a Target meltdown (or 25).
How I Met The Author.....
Tatiana (aka Tati-Nana to my son Nathan) Zellner and I have what most guys would call a bro-mance. 10 years ago, we were working for "the" Fortune 1 company and praying that they wouldn't figure out that we didn't know what we were doing ( well I didn't anyways). Clearly someone else was crazier than we were and placed us on the same project team... And that was all she wrote. 10 years of friendship has taken us through secret office relationships (with our now husbands), weddings, baby showers, babies and company moves and through it all she's still the Lucy to my Ethel and the Laverne to my Shirley. I can't wait to see what the next 10 years has in store for us.
Tatiana (aka Tati-Nana to my son Nathan) Zellner and I have what most guys would call a bro-mance. 10 years ago, we were working for "the" Fortune 1 company and praying that they wouldn't figure out that we didn't know what we were doing ( well I didn't anyways). Clearly someone else was crazier than we were and placed us on the same project team... And that was all she wrote. 10 years of friendship has taken us through secret office relationships (with our now husbands), weddings, baby showers, babies and company moves and through it all she's still the Lucy to my Ethel and the Laverne to my Shirley. I can't wait to see what the next 10 years has in store for us.