What you don't see in the pictures: the messy parts of motherhood

We all know I take a lot of pictures and videos of Adele. I mean, A LOT. Let's face it, she's cute and adorable and beautiful and entertaining. For the most part she's a happy child. She's always singing or dancing or laughing or talking. Just this morning she looked out the window as I was changing her diaper and she said she saw a bunny (there was a bunny). When I asked her about it, she said he hopped away and that he wasn't wearing any shoes. She's smart and also has a great imagination. But, with any toddler, and more importantly, any two-year-old, there is a not-so-pretty side.

We do have tantrums. And we do have messes. Everyone always says motherhood is not for the faint of heart. Ever since we changed Adele's first diaper, poop no longer bothers us. We've caught poop in our hands, and have had poop squirted in our eyes. We've dealt with poop blowouts that have traveled from Adele's tushy to her arm pits. Sean and I talk about Adele's (and Campbell's) poop like it's a regular part of conversation and life, because it is.

And now, with Adele potty training, poop is introduced in whole new ways. Generally she is great on the potty. She tells us when she has to go, and nine times out of ten, she goes. She still wears a diaper, and sometimes prefers to poop in her diaper, but she tells us when she needs to be changed. 

Pooping on the potty sometimes brings additional poop all over the place. There is a slim chance that when she sits on the potty, the poop will go in the potty. Then Adele will wipe herself, pull up her pants and wash her hands. And it's a done deal. But that's rare. Usually there is standing up and sitting down on the toilet while pooping, looking in the toilet, touching her butt, wiping herself and then throwing the toilet paper anywhere else besides in the toilet. And then there is getting her cleaned up with clothes back on and hands washed. A 20 minute ordeal. 30 tops. But she is learning. But with that learning comes poop all over.

Going on a nature walk with Opa Lloyd and Grandma Ruth

And the tantrums are normal and to be expected at this age, as she's inserting her independence and letting us know of her thoughts, feelings and opinions. The general rule is two choices. Always offer two choices to a toddler. No more, no less. Does she want the red cup or the yellow cup? Does she want the Adele spoon or the Elmo spoon? Does she want to carry her backpack, or for Mommy to carry her backpack? Does she want Daddy to put her into the car, or does she want to get into the car by herself? Does she want the pink soap or the white soap? Two choices. Never leave open-ended options. EVER. Even with two choices all hell can break lose.

If a cracker is the wrong shape or if I take the straw out of the plastic before Adele has a chance to do it, tantrum. If I peel her banana the wrong way, or cut her food, or don't cut her food. There is some crying, hopping/dancing back and forth, and tears. We discuss calming our bodies and using our words. Usually the tantrum is resolved within minutes, especially if I un-peel her banana promptly.

But with paci wars, the tantrums test every negotiating and reactionary skill in my body. As of now we've limited pacifier time to just while we are changing Adele's diaper at home, and in certain stressful situations where we want to keep our sanity for long periods of time, such as on an airplane. She doesn't use paci at school and doesn't use it to sleep. But getting her to give it up after a diaper change at home has turned into tantrum central, mostly in the morning after she is dressed and comes to our room to watch TV while we get dressed. 

Sean and I take a team approach. Both of us remain calm and remind Adele to calm her body. Take deep breaths. Use her words. She can use paci during a diaper change. But then paci goes away until the next diaper change. There are tears. And the hopping/dancing around. Like poop on the face, paci tantrums test my patience, my strength. But in those moments I remind myself: hey, this is motherhood and it's not always pretty and sometimes it's messy. And she's only 2. She's learning. She's growing. 

I recognize and acknowledge her feelings and emotions: "It's OK to feel sad."

And we make some deal. Two choices, usually. If she stops crying and calms her body, she can do this or that. Once she calms her body we will turn the TV back on. 

And then when the crying stops, and paci is safely back in the drawer until the next tantrum, I can continue with my routine, and Adele begins her singing and talking all over again.

Another area that has tested my patience lately is getting into the car, whether it's on the way to school, leaving school, or pretty much going anywhere. This time, though, there is no tantrum. Adele is actually quite peaceful and calm as she dilly-dallies slowly to the car, playing around, singing, talking, not quite getting herself into her car seat. 

She touches all the buttons, asks a lot of questions. But if I pick her up to put her in the car seat, tantrum. So we let her get in herself. We use stickers, toys, books, snacks, anything to get her in the car seat. I don't mind waiting a little and I am patient, but sometimes we are talking about a 15-20 minute ordeal. They say toddlers have no sense of time. That is true. But when getting into the car, we are usually on our way to work. So I give us extra time. I prepare myself in the event it could take a while. I give us some extra time. I give us a cushion because I anticipate the dilly-dallying. And Adele has no awareness I am impatient. (Because I hide it well). 

Me: "Adele, please get into the car."

Adele: says something about Daddy or Campbell or school, touches the buttons on the car door

Me: "Please climb into the car."

Adele: puts one leg in the car

Me: "You're doing great honey! So, what are you going to do in school today?"

Adele: leg out of the car. Says some more things. 

Me: (gritting my teeth. We've reverted). "Adele, please get into the car and I will give you a Minnie Mouse sticker."

Adele: Asks for books and toys and snacks

Me: "If you get into your car seat I will give you your books and toys. Which book do you want to look at? Elmo or Bubble Guppies?"

Adele: slowly climbs in while looking around and pointing out other people's houses and birds

This goes on for a few more minutes. When she finally gets in the car I am exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally. I've had to strategize. Compromise. Bribe. All while being patient and supportive. But once she's in and I've buckled her and we're driving off to school we talk about all sorts of things, from the moon to shapes to what our weekend plans are. We name everyone we love, and how old they are, and when their birthdays are. 

And motherhood. 

It's not for the faint of heart, I remind myself. But we're doing a great job. A great, great job.