For the last few months, my posts have been fraught with worry. First, Little Oats wasn’t getting dressed, then she wasn’t falling asleep, then she wasn’t staying asleep. We wrestled and fought, the tantrums were epic, and her opinions were clearly made known. Forget a casual trip to get a few groceries, or a dinner out as just a family of three. It was nearly impossible to go anywhere to do anything without the anticipation of a meltdown looming overhead. As far as I was concerned, the terrible twos were here early – and they were here to stay.

July dawned bright and beautiful with a holiday off to celebrate Canada and some sunny weather to spend outside. I don’t know what happened when that calendar switched from June to July, but a breakthrough was made. I’m not quite sure what miraculous event occurred, or what drastic developmental milestone was hit, but for the past week, Little Oats has been an absolute delight. She’s sweet and thoughtful, completely hilarious, well mannered, and (usually) well-behaved.

She wakes up in the morning happy; she announces that she’s awake, and that we should come and rescue her from her crib. She is perfectly content to snuggle in our bed with an episode of Team Umi Zoomi while I hop in the shower, and she eats just about any breakfast I make for her. Getting dressed is a breeze; as long as she can help put her pants on, and she gets to wear a “pretty shirt,” she’s content to get ready for the day. She sings, she hugs, she kisses, she snuggles. 23 months is a blast.

She’s getting to the point now where she can tell me about her day. Everything is rhymed off in a sing-song voice: “Went PARK, saw GEESE, down SLIDE, blew BUBBLES” she says about her day at daycare. “Saw MONKEY, fed GIRAFFE, saw BIRDS,” she told me about her trip to the zoo. Her language is just incredible right now; something the speech therapist in me wants to take credit for (but I know full well I can’t – that was all her).

23 months

ADVERTISEMENT

I’m slowly learning, over the course of the last twenty-odd months, that everything is just a phase. Any problem you’re dealing with, any behaviour that seems insurmountable; it will all end eventually. The tantrums, the pain, the sleep deprivation are all temporary. The joy that comes from watching your child learn and grow and develop, it outlasts any phase, and makes it all worth it. Is that cliche? Maybe. But I don’t really care.

23 months2

We’re sitting here, on the other side of a particularly wicked phase. To be honest, things aren’t perfect – they really aren’t going to be. The tantrums are still a reality, and it’s impossible to reason with a toddler. But the skies are a little bluer around here lately, and I’m getting really excited to add another to our family in just about 10 weeks.