And it was, of course, because your whole world is turned upside down.
In a good way of course.
Someone new to you.
Someone that fully depends on you.
Someone that changes everything.
But a toddler...oh, a toddler...they seem harder to me.
I read books to him. He reads to himself.
He throws blocks.
Plays with his bear and crocodile.
He makes messes.
He eats and eats.
He stands at my feet and cries...
I try things, but he just isn't that interested.
Like playing with shaving cream.
Or finger painting, which he just wanted to eat.
Things only last a few minutes and then he wants to move onto something else.
He likes to play by himself and do his own thing.
Sometimes I feel like a failure when it comes to raising a toddler.
Like I don't play with him enough.
Or I wonder if he is learning enough...
But I know that's wrong.
I know as he's doing his own thing, he really is learning.
I know that this is a stage and as he quickly grows there will be time to do more direct things.
For now its okay that he only does things for a few minutes.
That he plays by himself.
That I can't always entertain him.
It's okay that sometimes the tv keeps him entertained for a bit longer.
I'll have another baby to take care of,
and Braden will seem so much bigger, because he will be bigger.
It may be hard, but I'll hold onto it and enjoy it as much as I can.
They are only little for so long.