Transitional Twos

HAZEL: GO AWAY!

ME: Why?

HAZEL: NO, DON’T SAY THAT! I WAS SAYING THAT!

This is one of her go to sentences and it always makes me laugh, in my head. Not on the surface, that would be cruel when she’s having such a hard time. She’s thrashing around on the couch and I’m next to her just in case she falls. She is freaking out because her yogurt isn’t yogurting correctly. I’m not sure exactly what she wants but clearly she had some idea in her head and the yogurt is not cooperating. It’s not really about the yogurt though, it’s never really about the yogurt. She’s probably feeling crummy because she’s sick, plus she’s two

ME: Why do you want me to go? Are you embarrassed?

HAZEL: GO AWAAAAAAYYY!

ME: Are you angry?

HAZEL: YES! Go away!

ME: I’m not going to go away.

HAZEL: (high pitched screech followed by cough)

I know reasoning won’t work but I feel I need to tell her why.

ME: I’m not going away for two reasons. One, I want to keep you safe from falling. Two, I want you to know all emotions are ok and safe with me, I still love you, no matter what.

She looks at me briefly and I get my hopes up that I got to her.

HAZEL: GO AWAAAAAAAAAAY! (screech)

I wonder what the neighbors think. I look at Matt who is sitting in the recliner next to us. His face looks worried, as if to say “what is wrong with her?!” I look at him eyebrows raised as if to say “she’s two” which is what I always say. I’ve heard this is developmentally normal. Everyone knows about the “terrible twos” or “transitional twos” or whatever I’m supposed to call it to be the perfect mother who will never be criticized online. But I start to doubt myself. The screeches are so loud and she is clearly feeling so much. I wish I could help her. I wonder if we should take her in for testing. I don’t even know what for, but surely this requires a professional and not just me. I wonder if I’ve already fucked her up beyond repair. She has moved down from the couch onto the floor and is pushing and hitting me.

ME: Hazel, it’s not ok to hit.

She keeps flailing her arms and I hold up mine to block her. I feel bad for how easy it is. It must be so hard to have so little control.

HAZEL: (screech)

I look at my fitbit and realize it’s time to start getting ready for bed. I know from experience that there’s not a lot I can do for her at this point, it will come to a head when it comes to a head. Everything I say gets a bloody murder scream. Too much is happening. I need to change the scenery. So, I stand up and head to the bathroom. She pulls on me, letting her body fall backwards. Anticipating this, I catch the back of her head and lay it carefully down on the floor.

HAZEL: Noooooo don’t go!

ME: I’m not leaving, I’m just going to the bathroom.

I don’t know if she hears me because she screams throughout my talking. I reach out a hand towards her.

ME: Do you want to come with me?

HAZEL: Noooo don’t goooo!

My heart breaks a little looking at her. I have flashbacks to my mom prying my fingers off her car window as she tries to pull out of the driveway after a fight with my dad. Hazel tugs on my arm as I try to walk towards the bathroom.

HAZEL: Don’t gooo Mommy!

I turn towards her, arms open.

ME: I’m here, baby. Do you want to come with me? I can carry you.

HAZEL: Noooo go away backwards!!!

What does that mean? She wants me to walk away while looking at her? I turn and walk away from her. I immediately feel guilty, but I also feel angry that she thinks she can tell me what to do with my body. I remind myself that she’s “not giving me a hard time, she’s having a hard time” I roll my eyes at myself. Then I remind myself that not too long ago my body was her body too and she’s actively learning that we are separate.

ME: I’m going to start a bath.

HAZEL: NOOOOO! I don’t want a bath.

Though “noooo” doesn’t really convey the noise she makes. It’s high pitched, more like “noooeeeeeeeeeeh!” I start the bath with her pulling on me, careful not to let her fall.

HAZEL: I DON’T WANT A BATHEEEEEEEEEEEH!

ME: Ok, this is for me.

HAZEL: I don’t want a bath!!!

ME: This bath is for me. I want a bath.

I did originally run it for her, but hey, a bath sounds pretty nice right about now. If I have to be screeched at by a toddler, I might as well do it in a bubble bath. Plus she will have trouble reaching me to hit me in there. 

I get undressed and get into the bath. I wonder if she will want to get in too. She screams and lunges to hit me but I dodge her hand, moving just far enough away. The look on her face is like something out of a horror film. I guess she’s not coming in.

But does start to quiet down, still screaming but not as shrill. The bath and new scenery seems to help calm her. It calms my own frazzled nervous system too. I can think. I remember another regulation technique I wanted to teach her. It’s never worked for me, but hey, she’s not me.

ME: Rubber ducky, one yellow thing, towel, two yellow things

She is quieting down, sniffing, but curious about what I’m doing. I don’t acknowledge her interest and keep on with my activity.

ME: Toy boat, three yellow things, stars on Hazel’s pants, four yellow things, Peanut’s shampoo bottle, five yellow things!

She has completely quieted now. I keep going.

ME: Now I’m gonna look for five blue things. One, Hazel’s special soap, two, the bath bomb, three, Mommy’s jeans on the floor, four, the hand soap bottle, five, hmmm, I’m not sure

I look at her, we’re in this together, I’m Dora and she’s Boots. I smile excitedly

ME: Oh! The edge of the towel!

She smiles back at me and I give her a high five over the tub. I take a deep breath and she doesn’t yell at me, she follows suit.

ME: Hey. Are you ok?

HAZEL: Yeah, I’m ok.

ME: What happened that upset you with the yogurt.

HAZEL: The yogurt wasn’t coming out.

ME: I was a new type of yogurt and it wasn’t working the way you expected.

HAZEL: And then Mommy tried to help me and I said “no no no!”

ME: Yeah. And then things got kinda out of control, huh?

HAZEL: I said “no no no!”

ME: Yeah and you told me to go away.

HAZEL: Yeah.

ME: Why did you say that? We’re you angry or embarrassed?

HAZEL: Yeah

ME: I understand if you’re angry, it’s frustrating when things aren’t working the way you want. And maybe it’s annoying when Mommy offers to help when you’re still working on it. I’m sorry if I jumped in too soon, I know you’re a big girl and can do hard things. And you don’t need to be embarrassed. Your feelings are safe with me, I love you no matter what.

HAZEL: (nods)

ME: Would you like a hug?

HAZEL: (nods and melts into me over the tub edge)

ME: I love you so much.

We take a few more breaths and I get out of the tub and dry off. We are not doing bath time for her tonight and I’m ok with that. Tonight we are building emotional regulation skills, we can work on hygiene tomorrow. Well, not all hygiene will wait. I get my robe on and get her toothbrush ready. I pick her up and set her on the sink next to me.

ME: All of your emotions are safe with me. But you did hurt my feelings a little when you told me to go away. And I know you were feeling a lot, but hitting is never allowed, right?

HAZEL: I hit you and I said “go away!”

ME: Yes. So, now that we’ve calmed down, could you say sorry to Mommy?

HAZEL: I’m sorry.

ME: Thank you. I’m so proud of you, baby. Taking breaths and taking time to listen to what your emotions are saying and apologizing for mistakes, that’s not easy. Even Mommy has trouble doing that. But you are getting better and it will get easier because you are practicing.

We brush our teeth, do our night routine and I put her to bed. Then my phone vibrates. I look down to see a text in my sister chat from my little sister, who also has a two year old. It says “I’m having a really hard time parenting.” She goes on to tell a story beat for beat exactly like the one above, it’s like reading my diary. She tells us that she feels like she’s failing (because she said one not perfect thing). My heart breaks. She goes on to say that she wishes she could be more like me. I am aghast. I tell her that I just had a very similar experience and that we are not doing any better on meltdowns over here. Our older sisters chime in with their own stories from when their children were young as well as stories of how they are now. They tell us that this is not permanent.

I tell my little sister how I was glad she told us because I feel more confident that Hazel’s emotions are normal. I tell her how Matt reacted and how I was even thinking about taking Hazel to a professional. She confesses that she thought the same thing and when she told her husband he asked if they should get an exorcism. I laugh out loud thinking of Hazel reaching for me in the bath.

I am so relieved. I constantly watch my little sister with her daughter and admire how patient and loving she is. I strive to have the calm and abundance of love that she seems to have. To hear that she is struggling too feels unbelievably validating. To hear that our older sisters also faced little demons, sorry, toddlers having a hard time, and came out the other side feels reassuring.

I go to sleep that night and the next morning Hazel yells at me for taking her out of the crib “wrong.” Here we go again. But I feel a little more capable and less alone.