Dear Two Year Old Rowan

Dear {2 yr old} Rowan,

It's been a while since I had the mindspace to sit down and write all the things going on.  It breaks my heart to admit that I can't concentrate enough recall quite a bit of the last 6 months.  It's been a whirlwind.  In many ways, a good whirlwind.  In other ways, challenging.

You're keeping up with the "Growing Up" schedule. You spew new words all the time.  Among our favorites, are "Pack Pack" {backpack}, Preese {Please}, Yosss {yes}, although we will always miss your phase of "Si".  But most of your words, and sentences...yes, sentences, sound so accurate that they're not really cute. They're just amazing....and also kind of weird...I mean, since when are you a real little person that can participate in conversation?!

You are still a little helper.  Taking any opportunity to feed Domino {still "No No"}, sweep the floors, clean the windows, vacuum, wipe your placemat, shake Cid's bottles, put things "away!"  And you love to follow Grandma around helping with her farm chores.

You are still the ultimate big brother.  You hand Cid toys, with a "Here go, Baby". A couple days ago at a restaurant, you tried to appease his tears by giving him the toy truck you were playing with. If we ask you why Cid cries, you say "He's sad".  We will never forget last Halloween when Dad, dressed as Gru and unrecognizable to you, tried to carry Cid from daycare and you would not let him.  You grabbed a hold of Cid's carrier and said "No! No. Down." You motioned for me to take Cid and told Gru/Dad "BYE" in your way of saying "Get out of here".  I can't describe how proud of you I am for looking out for your little brother. And I wish you could know the way Cid looks at you.  Like you are the World.  I hope you guys continue to look out for each other the rest of your lives.

You're incredibly persistent.  {Maybe you get it from me ;p}.  It can drive us nuts!  Especially at bed time.  Often you are really nice about your protest, "Preese, awake Momma".  Sometimes you're not nice and I have the bruises to prove it! I'd gladly take the hits for the "Sow Sow, Momma" and hug I get after, but I want you to learn some things are not ok, even when served with a sugar-coated apology. It can be hard for your dad and I to be strict, but really, honestly we do our best to help you grow into a responsible, happy, well rounded person. That doesn't mean getting everything you want. And you and I are both major Grinches if we don't get enough sleep ;)

These days you LOVE to ride the bike with Dad.  You notice the smallest things, like ants crawling on the ground, or the bee that hijacked Christmas dinner, or if the binky has a red center instead of a blue one.  Momma can no longer do her squats during teeth brushing because you started doing them too! Ack!


Every age comes with different incredible new things to be excited about, as well as new puzzles to figure out. So far, I'm loving what the "Twos" are bringing!


Love,
Mom

Happy 2nd Birthday Rowan!

Last month Rowan turned two!  

 He got to celebrate with a few of his little buddies over milk and cookies, and....a balloon ball pit!

I learned my lesson from year 1 and made small cupcakes with non-colored frosting, much less messy than the last cake.

I can't believe our (biggest) little guy is 2 years old.  Although it sort of feels like that second year vanished in a flash, it really was filled with a LOT of things.  Hence, part of the reason I stopped blogging...no time...though not the only reason.  

I almost feel like Rowan has been two for a while.  He had his share of horrendous tantrums leading up to the big 0-2, (from about 19 months on, things got pretty rough) and seriously, it was like a switch the moment he hit the birthday mark he became his old self again....except that he can communicate so much better now!  

Don't get me wrong, we still have times where we want to bang our heads against the wall.

Here's a post I wrote, but never published a few months ago:


Did I mention our move?  We packed our bags and relocated to a little place called Tantrum City.  It's not the nicest area and we're not planning on being permanent residents, but we're here now so we're doing our best to deal with it.

Rowan's fits actually began quite a while ago.  Somewhere between months 16 and 17.  We joked that he was so advanced, he was entering his Terrible Twos early.  But all jokes aside, it's actually heartbreaking to watch our little cub go through this stage.

He wants so badly to be able to dictate his own life.  He's trying hard to tell us this with his vastly improved communicative skills and us dimwits just aren't getting it through our thick skulls.

I think he must be thinking he got stuck with the most idiotic parents on the planet.

"Seriously guys, how many times do I have to tell you?! I want an "ijsje" {popsicle}!  Are  you stupid?  I'm pointing right at the damn thing!"

I really feel bad for him.  How would the rest of us feel if we told somebody "no" and they went right ahead and forced you to do it anyway.  Not good, right?  But on the other hand, this little guy {and us too!} needs his sleep and letting him stay up late to avoid the Hell-fire wouldn't really be doing anybody any good.

We're trying to pick our battles.  If Rowan doesn't want to change out of his jammies shirt, then I just send him to school that way.  I figure, what's the harm in that?  Someday, he'll care about putting on a clean shirt, right? That's an easy one though.  Last night was a tougher one.  He did NOT want to go to bed.  From the time we asked him to say "goodnight" he began a leg kicking, arm flailing, head butting, door banging, top-of-the-lungs screaming rampage that lasted for an hour.  He got out of bed and opened his door about thirty times and was redirected back to bed thirty times, each time in adamant protest.  Actually, the screaming fits, I can handle, {other than wondering what our neighbors are thinking}.  It was the times when he would calm down and sweetly ask for something that I didn't understand and couldn't give him. THAT was hard. Hard to watch his frustration.  Hard to reward his kindness, then punish his violence.  

Then there's the ones in the middle of the night.  Are they nightmares?  Night terrors? Two-yr molars?  Or does he just want to be up and he's not going to let up until he gets his way?  

Hope this phase is a short one.