Truman seems older than he is. He's big, verbal and independent. He can do a lot of things like a three year old and he's certainly the size of a three year old, but that doesn't mean he IS three.
He's still two, he still has those needs he had as a baby and it's easy for me to forget, fall into traps of frustration and want him all grown up at once — potty trained, in control of his body and emotions, weaned from the family bed.
I get so caught up in what I want to accomplish with him. I want to help him accomplish these things so he can move on to other things he is ready for.
But just because he is ahead in some areas doesn't mean he is ahead in all areas. And just because I want something done by X date, have reasonable time lines, steps and everything the books recommend, doesn't mean he is going to be ready to take that next step.
He has been fighting a cold and his sleep has been all out of whack, making our sleep all out of whack, making for one cranky round lady.
He hasn't wanted to go anywhere, even our normal outings and if we go he doesn't want to leave.
Today I honored that. Today I stayed home with him as he wanted.
In the afternoon he settled down for a nap on his own curled on the floor looking just like a baby. Then he stirred a few hours later. I greeted him cheerfully, but he wanted me to hold him. He wanted to sleep in my arms like he had for 18 months.
So, I held him. I was sewing at the time and grabbed a piece of fabric I had, wrapped it around him and have been sitting, wearing him since.
He is still asleep in my arms, cuddling his sibling, peacefully.
Maybe what he really needs is not more rules, more structure or me stepping away. Maybe what he needs is just this closeness he has always had.
Maybe he is sensing that it will be shared soon. Sensing me pushing him to grow up and feeling unsure about it.
As independent as he is, he still needs his mother. I need to remember to honor that. As fearlessly as he approaches the world, he still needs security. I need to remember to honor that.
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