From the moment I first met my daughter she was loud. Her small heartbeat was loud on the ultrasound; she entered the world screaming her head off; as an infant, she made it quite clear when she was hungry, tired, mad, sad, or gassy; and now, as a toddler, she can go from playful chatter box to screaming devil in 3 seconds flat. But despite the annoyingly loud moments, there are other times when her noises are comforting and almost reassuring.
When she makes just enough noise to let me know she’s alive – As Isabel becomes more independent, there are times when she plays with her baby, makes soup in her kitchen, or lays on her mat reading, that it’s honestly hard to know where she is if you don’t see her. I can be in the kitchen and literally not hear her doing her own thing, so I listen for a sign that she’s alive or not destroying something. A patter, a mumble, a hum, anything. Silence is definitely golden, until it causes fear.
Child/toddler snoring – I can sleep through many things (including some baby crying), but snoring is one thing that grinds my gears. (I apologize now to Mama FWL for any snoring I may do.) But child snoring? That’s like birds singing on a spring day, all the planets aligning and Elsa lifting the curse (sorry, Frozen is a constant in the house now). Child snoring means they’re sleeping! Which means they are quiet! And it hopefully means they will wake up rested little angels!
“Thank You!” – Toddlers are quite possibly the most selfish creatures on the face of the planet. They have no concept of societal norms, blatantly disregard rules and commands, and expect their demands to be met immediately and without question. Needless to say, teaching them manners is hard. We have to be extra polite, with every single request, so that they learn the proper (and frequent) usage of “please” and “thank you.” And so just when you think all your work is for naught, they utter those magical words! Never before have I enjoyed hearing “thank you” more than when my toddler blurts it out, seemingly unaware of the significance. Making it even cuter, is when Isabel routinely follows up her own “thank you” with “welcome” – literally taking the words right out of my mouth.
Stampeding everywhere – When my cats do this it sounds like a herd of buffaloes running down the hallway, and when we were fresh parents, we’d be terrified that their pounding would wake up our sleeping beauty. However, when a toddler runs down the hallway, provided that there isn’t some loud thud from them tripping on their face or running into the wall, it’s super cute. They have no concept of walking (or doing most things) quietly, so everything is a deliberate stomp. It’s also nice because we get a few seconds of warning before random demands in toddlerese come flying out of her mouth.
“Rea-da book!” – I’m the first to admit that I am not a reader. I rarely read books for pleasure and have a stack of magazines that Mama would gladly recycle if let her. Isabel on the other hand, loves reading. If she had her way, we would read ten books each night before bed, and lately, the first thing she has wants before even leaving her room is to have a book read to her. If you had asked me before having kids if I would have been so willing to read a book half asleep to my child, I probably would have looked at you side-eyed. Even now, the first thought to cross my mind is, “Really? Right now you want to read? I can barely change your diaper.” But minutes later, it’s the two of us reading a book before breakfast.
“I’m ready…” – The terrible twos are real. I keep hearing that 3-year-olds are even worse, but for now, we’re dealing with the twos. There have been lots of tears, tantrums, (failed) negotiations, deep breaths, and frayed nerves. Patience has been tested in both parent and child, boundaries have been broken and repaired, and lessons have been learned (I think). There have been “calm outs,” where Isabel can focus on herself and not us, and other times when she flops on the ground and we just leave her because the fight isn’t worth it. And as crappy as these moments are, and as long as the crying seems to last, there is always comfort knowing that she will figure it out, sidle up to our leg, say “I’m ready,” and reach for a hug.
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