It was the Best of Times...

by Amy, July 09, 2010

This is Quinn just as he is waking up. Maybe not so happy. You may remember back in November when I made this post about the Terrific Two's. At the time I thought Quinn was entering that two year old stage but what I didn't realize was that it was just the tip of the iceburg. I am back to reading parenting books to give me ways to cope in the moment and also look at the bigger picture.

I never realized what strong emotions a little 2 3/4 year old boy could pull out of me. I was telling Don the other night "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times". Funny -- I just looked up the full quote and it seems quite appropriate...

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it ws the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way."

I watch amazed as he learns new sayings and builds sentences, operates the microwave, puts on his own shoes, cuddles with me every morning and everything else that makes my heart smile. (As I type this he just asked me to get a ladder so he can get a clock off the top shelf of the bookcase.) I also stand amazed as he breaks down crying and immobile when I get his shoes out of the closet instead of letting him do it, when he refuses to get dressed because I pulled off his pj bottoms instead of letting him do it, when I try to get a bathing suit on him, and the list goes on.

We have learned to give Quinn lots of options so that he has a sense of control and independence. Sometimes it's as simple as "juice or milk?". Other times it's "Do you want to walk up the stairs or should I carry you?". He hasn't quite realized that he another choice of doing nothing at all, but it works to get him upstairs.

We add tools to our parenting toolbox but every time we get one thing figured out, it changes again. I remember when I knew *everything* about parenthood -- my name was Aunt Amy.

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