Two to Twenty

Two to Twenty : on 18 March 2011

(Click on photo to read entire blog) Where does time go? I remember when I was in my early twenties, my father would always say to me, “Cherish these times with your children while they are young because before you know it, one day you will wake up and they will be grown and gone.” I spouted off to him that I could not wait until my children were grown and could not wait until there would be no more diapers – as I shifted through laundry, baby bottles, working, and thinking that I had a rather boring life. Well, guess what? I am eating my words and have been eating those words for countless years.

I love babies and always have. Everything about a baby is beautiful…the smell of a freshly bathed baby, the cooing and babbling, the clinging, the bright, inquisitive eyes – always searching for mommy. Babies grow into toddlers. Toddlers are so precious and eager to learn everything. They are just one, little sponge. Erik Erikson's psychosocial personality development calls this stage of life “autonomy versus shame and doubt.” The one-to-two year-old child is realizing they can direct their own behavior. If they are successful, they learn to be independent. I never understood why people still call this stage the “terrible twos” because I never experienced “terrible twos” with any of my children (this is one of my favorite ages for mothering).

There was always a pacifier in the mouth of my two-year-old, even though he gave up his baby bottle at twelve months. He had to suck that “pluggie.” He was such a “plug-sucker” that I would put him into his bed with numerous pluggies attached to his footed jammies, just in case one came off in the middle of the night.

The tiny hand — yes, that little hand, as it wrapped around just one finger of mine while we would go on our really ‘long' walks. A long walk to my toddler was up to the end of the block and back, holding my finger tightly. There were brave moments that he would get in his little plastic, molded car before we left the house and peddle-push ‘drive' it like Fred Flintstone down to the end of the block (guess who had to push it back home — yes, you guessed right — mommy). I loved our walks.

Instead of going on walks with me outside in Kansas City, one of the other favorite things my two-year-old loved to do was to ride his “Horsy” while wearing training pants, a shirt, cowboy hat, and cowboy boots. He would rock and roll in the garage on that “Horsy” while climbing down every so often so play with cars or push a toy down the steep driveway. Strangely enough, when it came time to pick up those toys, my toddler was immediately tired and after pulling the “pluggie” out of his mouth, he would say, “Mommy, you do it. Too tired from working so hard. You pick up toys. Horsy dirty. You pick up toys.” It worked every time. My two-year-old baby boy had me wrapped around his soul. And guess what? He still does.

As I am writing this, I just started crying. No, I am not crying…I am bawling my eyes out. Please understand. I am not bawling because of sadness, I am bawling because I am happy. I am overcome with bountiful joy ♥&#9835&#9833&#9835♥.

I birthed this child, nurtured him through preschool, protected him through elementary school, and have watched him grow through his adolescence years. There were times during his adolescence that I wanted to ship him off to live elsewhere because of the rebellion and choices he was making. A mother always knows best and we as mothers, try to protect our children. This must be innate. He still does not understand one of the most difficult things I ever did was in my decision to send him to a military academy so that he could graduate from high school and turn his life around when he got into trouble. You see, I raised this child by myself for 12 years. I did the best job I could do. He did not have a strong father figure because there was no man in the house. As parents, we do the best jobs we can do in raising our children with the skill-set we have at that time.

Today, my son, Taylor, turned 20 years old. I am so very proud of my son as I have witnessed how he has turned his life around and watched him grow into a man that my family can be delighted with. Taylor is proud to be part of our Hall family. He would do anything to protect me and I am grateful for this. I have a son who wants to spend time with me and a son who values me as a person. He understands that I am human and understands that I also, have made mistakes in the past. Letting him know that I have made mistakes allows him to realize that it is acceptable to us as a family that he has made mistakes also. We are only human and are not perfect.

From two to twenty… just like that. Where did the time go? God is smiling today because it is my baby son's birthday and he is 20 years old. So, Taylor, if you ever read this blog, turn up a great song by the Allman Brothers — Sweet Melissa — and think of how much I love you, for today and always ♥.

Taylor at MMA

in Berlin's Holocaust Memorial

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©Copyright — Gayle Joplin Hall, PhD.  All rights reserved worldwide.  None of this material may be downloaded or reproduced without written permission from the author.