First they’re sour, then they’re sweet.

You think I’m talking about sour patch kids? Close-enough… I’m talking about toddlers.

Two and a half is not easy. I’m having a hard time with it. I’m too rigid for two and a half. I’m too scheduled for two and a half. I have too many expectations for two and a half. Two and a half is messy. It’s sticky. Sleeves are wet. Clothes are ruined. Shoes never match. Pants are backwards. Hair sticks up. Balls are thrown inside. Tantrums are thrown outside. There’s no silence.

For every tough thing about two and a half, I could probably tell you three positive, heart-turning, lovable things about two and a half. It doesn’t mean it’s still not a struggle.

We’re currently learning how to be safe and gentle with Lola, to STOP when you hear STOP (and to STOP when you hear NO), that ice cream isn’t a meal (even though I haven’t been able to give him a good reason why), toilet-training, crib to bed sleeping, new words and meanings, that cats don’t like their necks squeezed during hugs, that you don’t need to touch every snowflake while walking to the car, that no one NEEDS to watch Mickey Mouse 24/7, that the stove is hot, the trash can is dirty, only some furniture is for jumping (and that none of that furniture is at our house), and that the bathtub water needs to stay in the bathtub. Among other things, of course.

I think parenting a toddler is a bit like walking up a mountain on a beautiful sunny day — then being blindfolded and told to take a walk. You sort of know where you are, some things feel comfortable, you kind of know where you’re going but then there’s always that possibility that at any time you’re going to fall off the cliff. And on the way down, you’re going to hit every bump and rock along the way.

But then the most amazing and hysterical things happen, too. Like when he takes my face in his hands, stares at me and tells me he loves me. Or when he sees my glass of water across the room and carries it over to me unprompted. When he sees that Lola has spit up, and he runs to get a cloth to wipe her mouth. When he crawls into bed with me and asks me to snuggle him. When he bumps his head and says all he needs to feel better is a kiss. Or when he tells Sean that he likes his beard today.

It happens. Kindness, compassion, empathy. It’s all in there. (Despite behaving like a teenager, no offense of course to teenagers).

But there’s other stuff too…

Two and a half is one big experiment. It’s about playing and learning and learning through play. It’s about building up and breaking down. It’s about leaving toys out and mixing things up. It’s about enjoying the littlest things and noticing the smallest changes. It’s about taking your time, not being in a rush and enjoying the moment.

Two and a half is independence. It’s about breaking boundaries and testing limits. It’s about being outside as much as possible, endless walks without holding a hand and it’s about running and screaming and jumping and yelling. It’s learning societal expectations and that there’s only a few places where it’s acceptable for running and screaming and jumping and yelling.

Two and a half is about your people. Your family and parents and siblings. Caring and showing love and affection the way you’ve been shown love and affection. It’s a kiss on the top of the head, and a gentle squeeze of a hand. It’s about saying I love you over and over and wanting every day to see your friends. It’s about learning your strength, your impulses and ticks.

Two and a half is creative. It’s artistic and positive. It’s bright and cheery and happy. It’s trying new things, spilling paint and then cleaning it up because you want to. It’s singing and dancing to music and wondering why no one else is doing the same. It’s about reading the same books over and over, playing make-believe, and pretending to be “super Mickey”.

Two and a half is having the best ideas ever and being heartbroken when the adults around you don’t see them as the best ideas ever.

Two and a half is hard for me, but I’m sure it’s hard for my little guy, too.