Remember mama, your toddler is human, too

The more he tried to rope me in, the more I resisted, which made for a long and frustrating day. It wasn’t until after he was asleep that I realized what might be going on.

Just over three weeks ago, Alex started wearing underwear and using his little potty chair or the “big potty” regularly without prompting. This alone was a huge jump in independence. But he has also made so many other steps forward since turning three, most of which were self-driven.

He is learning to brush his own teeth and hair. He can dress and undress and put shoes on with little support. He uses a fork and small knife to cut food and he puts his dishes in the sink when he’s done. His pretend play has become richly imaginative and he is more comfortable playing with other kids in small groups.

I have encouraged and praised him for each of these skills, but I have also been quick to raise my expectations of him while I prepare him for what’s next. In doing so, I sometimes neglect to acknowledge how far he has come. And I forget how much he still needs me, though in a different way.

He knows that I know he can put on his own shoes, but that used to be something that we did together. Diaper changes , though often dreaded and hurried, used to be more time that we spent together and the same goes for dressing.

Each step toward independence brings with it greater responsibility and a bigger gap between him and his little brother. I think the stalling and silliness are often his way of resisting his independence—despite the pride he feels when doing things himself.

He sees how I swoon over his little brother when putting on his shoes. Or the way I tickle his tummy after I fasten his diapers. It isn’t true jealousy—it’s more like a tug on his heart that reminds him of how things used to be.

I know what my big boy is capable of and when the pace of our day quickens, it is tempting to hold him to a high standard—even if that means reprimanding him for dramatic or seemingly naughty behavior. But when I slow down and acknowledge the limits of a 3-year-old’s emotional development, I am moved to adjust my expectations and be the mother that he needs me to be in that moment.

In some ways, I am not so different from a 3-year-old at times. I still want my husband to acknowledge the simple things I do—even the things I do every single day. Sometimes spilled coffee or ruined baked goods are reasons enough to make me cry. And when things don’t go as planned or when someone is rushing me, I can feel the stress creep in and overwhelm me.

So why would I expect more from a child?

Alex has days when his threshold for frustration is low, being a big brother is too much to handle, and he resists his newfound independence. And sometimes these days collide with the days when my threshold for frustration is low, my patience runs thin by 10 am, and I put my plans above his needs.

These days are hard, but sometimes slowing down and lowering my expectations—both of myself and my son—makes all the difference. Sometimes simply acknowledging that we both need a little extra validation and a lot of extra grace is huge.