They call it the “terrible twos” for a reason.
Life with a toddler can be difficult. It’s an age of blossoming independence that brings with it big feelings, big opinions, and a strong will. It’s the age where children learn the power of the word “no” and they say it emphatically and often. The green boots that they loved yesterday are now no longer tolerable and how dare you offer them? How could you not know that today’s favourite colour is red?
It’s also still an age of dependence. Toddlers really need their parents. Besides the constant supervision they require as they learn to navigate the world, they still find themselves reaching the limits of what their little bodies are capable of. My two-year-old constantly insists on things like “You do it,” or “Carry me.” Her little legs tire out easily. She gets upset when she can’t complete a task she wants to be able to complete. She’s a capable little human being who wants to prove just how capable she is, and she gets angry when things don’t work out.
Independence and dependence. It’s a frustrating push-pull for parents and toddlers alike.
That makes the toddler years exhausting. Getting out the door is a challenge. Many days we are met with “I NOT going outside!” only for our two-year-old to spend the day promising she’s not going inside once we get out there. Even in the summer, when all we need to throw on is a pair of sandals, it can take an hour to get out the door. In winter, when we have to contend with coats and hats and mitts and boots… Forget it.
But I’m quickly discovering that, for all of its challenges, this stage of life is extra special. Activities with my daughter will never again be this magical.
Over the summer, I attempted a garden. My gardening skills leave a lot to be desired, but come fall I decided to pull up the potatoes and carrots and see if I’d grown anything. My daughter came outside with me with a bucket and when I pulled the first carrot out of the ground her eyes went wide with wonder and she gasped as she exclaimed “A carrot!” The carrot that I’d dug up was puny– no bigger than my pinky finger– but she was completely delighted. When we dug up the potatoes, I pulled them from the ground and she happily carried them all to the bucket, each one as thrilling as the last.
We often go to a local wetland preserve for nature walks along the boardwalk. The trail at the preserve is a little over 3 kilometers long, but we can stay for hours and never make it even half a kilometer. It doesn’t matter how often we visit, our daughter is interested in stopping at the same places each and every time: she wants to stop and look at the map at the start of the trail, she wants to sit and watch the ducks at the start of the boardwalk, and she wants to look at the ‘Bugs for Breakfast’ trail sign, that describes all of the insects the waterfowl. These three things never get old.
I no longer dread the first snow of the season, because I can’t wait to take my daughter out to see the world anew.
Rainy days mean puddles to jump in.
And pure joy can be found simply by sitting and watching the ants.
Each season brings an entirely new world to explore. In our same little patch of yard we plant seeds in spring, smell the flowers in summer, pick apples in the fall, and build snowmen in the winter.
This stage of life is not easy, but the challenges and barriers of the toddler years are balanced by the fact that the time spent in nature is infinitely more memorable. The mundane has become magical.
One day, my daughter will look out the window to see the first snow of the season and she’ll groan and curl up under a blanket like the rest of us. One day, she’ll step in a puddle and frown down at her wet shoe instead of grinning with delight and jumping up and down in the water. One day, she’ll be in too much of a rush to point out the bee that’s come to visit the flowers.
For now though, I get to see the world through my daughter’s eyes, and it has never looked more beautiful.