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Shortly after kids are able to walk and climb and after they’ve acquired just enough language, they hit what we all know as the “terrible twos”. My experience is that this doesn’t happen after the second birthday, and it isn’t exactly terrible. We’re going through it right now with my very independent 19 mos old.

The terrible twos really start the moment your little one realizes that she is her own person. And this age is terrible only because every second of the day suddenly becomes about defining her identity. I expect this is preparation for the epic battle of teenager-hood.

I would consider myself a reasonably lax parent.  I give the kids the freedom to fall (safely) so they learn to be careful. I let them feed themselves so that they learn how to manage silverware and cups. As long as it looks like science, I’m reasonably permitting when it comes to mess making. So for me, some of this struggle is just sad, as often enough it involves an excruciatingly frustrated little person that just isn’t able to do all the things s/he wants to be able to for no other reason than because s/he just isn’t ready. I remember all too many knock down, drag out tantrums over another 1.5 year old wanting to dress himself but not being quite able to maneuver that shirt over his head and then find the armholes.  All we could do was stand back and let him scream and yell, having no idea what sparked the incident, just helpless observers of the kid’s inner turmoil.

The less sad tantrums are frustrating for everyone. Those are the battles that occur when you are in a hurry or starving and low on patience (and blood sugar) at the end of everyone’s day. Those are the battles over who gets to pull the bag off the roll, choose the tomato, insert the tomato in the bag and then carry it – the gentle adult or the determined but imprecise and rough little person? Or the battles over holding hands when crossing the street – which aren’t so much about holding hands, but the fact that holding MY hand symbolizes me holding HER back. These are the battles that are easily avoided when everyone is well rested and well fueled, which parents of 19 mos olds rarely are. These are the battles that you are somehow so much more prepared for and creative in avoiding with OTHER people’s children, but with your own, leave you feeling like you are completely unfit to be a parent.

So, okay, yeah. The Terrible Twos are terrible. And I’m sure I will find the humor in our battles in another couple of years, when I am able to look back and think objectively about that plump little person defiantly throwing herself on the ground in the store because she didn’t want to use the bag I chose, or pick the unblemished apricot I chose, she wanted to do it all herself. I have to admit, it was cute. Just not at the time.

I think the secret to getting through this unscathed is to keep reminding myself of the reason we’re having these battles. What’s a few blemished and smushed apricots if it is just one step closer to growing a self-confident little person? Oh, and it probably wouldn’t hurt to never leave home without a pocket of energy-packed almonds.