Trying Two

My dear, sweet, and strong-willed son, Firstborn, is not quite two. He won't be two until May, but has already decided to fully embrace the "terrible two's", a phrase I dislike greatly. It's a misleading phrase. Maybe a more appropriately alliterated phrase should have been the "trying two's". Because that's what it truly is. Firstborn is trying many things, not just my patience, but that's the one that comes to mind when I say, "trying two's".
Not only is he trying to learn who he is, but where he stands in this family. And that is going to be somewhat unsettling I'm afraid, once Secondborn arrives in July. He's trying out boundaries, of the physical and parental department. Three weeks ago he attempted ice skating in our narrow kitchen with each foot in a separate frying pan. Needless to say, he didn't stick that particular landing. He did, however, nail the one yesterday as he walked on the couch up and down its length until falling and cracking his head on the wooden armrest. I don't know about crossing his T's, but he certainly dotted his eye.
Firstborn is learning at an amazingly rapid pace that never ceases to amaze me. It's evident that he will be much smarter than I am. Maybe it was the fish oil pills I took the last half of the pregnancy to increase his brain growth and development. I'd like to think that us teaching him sign language starting at five months had a hand in it too. Most likely it's that he takes after his Daddy who I'm in awe of. Whatever the case may be, I'm both terrified and proud of my son's problem solving capabilities.
Recently we've had to replace the original covers on our electrical outlets. He had learned to pull the safety plugs out. The new ones require a steady and strong hand in sliding the plate over to its opening. We're taking bets on how long it takes him to figure this one out. Two weeks ago he learned how to unscrew lightbulbs. Two days ago he shorted out my nightstand lamp trying to figure out how it works. His favorite tool in the house for some time now has been an ever handy pair of kitchen tongs. He uses them to reach anything that's out of his reach.
Do you see where I'm going? Do we enroll him in some sort of Montessori Electrical Engineering program or duct tape him to his high chair? I've always loved working with children whether it be in daycare settings or one-on-one. I highly encourage thinking outside of the box. I believe a child should be independant and confident. I can't sit beside him and watch his every move. Not only would it wreck his self esteem but my house would be a wreck as well, what with all the neglect.
Every day is presenting new challanges and obsticles for both, Firstborn and myself. I want him to keep trying new things and seeing how they work. I also want a clean house (prefereably with all my electrical appliances working within the proper safety codes). But the question is, do I want these at the risk of raising a child who doesn't know how to think for himself void of any personality? No. As long as my child is safe, well fed, and fully aware of just how much he's loved, then I'm doing my job. As the older woman in my ladies group told me a few weeks ago, "Hon, your job is to give that child all the lovin' you got, and to keep him from breakin' his fool little neck...cause it's the only one that the good Lord gave him! The house can wait, but that boy will be gone in the blink of an eye." Amen.
So, for those who think I'm crazy because I let my son finger paint with chocolate pudding in the bathtub and play with Quaker Oats as he plows them into my living room carpet with his tractors I say this: I'm not crazy (err, that crazy), I'm just letting my son be the best "trying two" he can be.