8 Lessons I Learned From My 2 Year Old

Parenting is a never-ending syllabus of valuable lessons. There are lessons in resilience, in patience, in the paradox of love and anger, in mindfulness and presence, in creativity, in what exhaustion does to the brain, the mood, the marriage. 

I had not anticipated what great teachers my kids would be, and although they don’t set out to teach, I am always learning.

When my son was 2 years old he was doing his very best to patiently wait for his older cousin Brayden after a basketball game. I use the word “patiently” from a toddler’s perspective, as he was running the length of the gym, sliding feet first into the mirrored walls on each side, and then licking said mirrors, all while laughing hysterically.

Then, sweet Isaac spied his favorite thing….older kids doing something without him (how dare they)! Isaac is drawn to older kids like a moth to a flame, desiring to do everything they do regardless of how complicated or dangerous the activity might be. A 4 y/o boy and 6 y/o girl were playing a game of tag, and Isaac immediately began his attempt to keep up, running as quickly as his little legs would carry him. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being ignored and was in no way a part of their game. It took a few minutes before the boy finally acknowledged Isaac. He pointed his finger at my son’s chest and said, “we’re not playing with you. It’s just me and her playing…not you!” I watched from afar as Isaac tried to understand what he was being told. The boy attempted to confirm that Isaac had understood the limits he had just set. He stopped pointing his finger and made the fatal mistake of raising both arms in a shrug to say, “ok? Get it? Understand?” This was the moment Isaac decided that this boy’s shrug was actually an invitation for a hug. Isaac gave both kids an excited squeeze as if they had just nominated him President of their exclusive, “We’re Older and Bigger and Play Better Games Than You” club. Within minutes, the hearts of the older kids visibly softened as they began to make room for Isaac in their play. The boy took Isaac by the hand, guided him to “base” and then taught him how to tag. My sweet son decided that tagging should be hugging instead, which they graciously tolerated. Even when Isaac began tagging his own reflection in the mirror, they laughed with him and then patiently redirected him to their game. By the end of the evening these 3 beautiful children were friends. My heart melted as I watched this loving interaction and I was struck at how 3 young children had innocently illustrated the power of loving-acceptance and kindness. I couldn’t help but think of my own life and the times I have reacted to others in a way that wasn’t at all what I hope to model for my son. I couldn’t help but think of the times I’ve recoiled at someone’s perceived harshness without considering that maybe I was interpreting their actions unfairly and without context. I couldn’t help but watch these kiddos and consider how one kind gesture in the face of possible rejection can lead to openness and belonging. 

Watching these sweet littles taught me:

1. When we judge, we lose the opportunity to forge new friendships.

2. We can be loved through and forgiven for our misguided behaviors, and we have the opportunity to do the same for others.

3. Inviting someone “different” into our world can teach us a new way to approach, view, lean into life, and this can bring more joy, more freedom, more friendship, more love, more hugs!

4. Loving someone who has hurt us can heal more than one heart.

5. We must believe we’re worthy before expecting others to believe the same.

6. When we are vulnerable we find ourselves loving others before judging them.

7. It’s easy to love those who are kind to us. It’s courageous to love those who hurt us.

8. When we love ourselves we can receive and accept love from others.

I’ve hoped to model for my son a love for others that is fearless and authentic and vulnerable, but as I watched that evening unfold, I realized that these qualities already live and breathe in young children. They don’t need adults to demonstrate these virtues, they need us to foster and protect them, as they face the hurts and disappointments that come with growing older. What I thought was my responsibility to teach my son, was actually a lesson I needed to learn from him.

The next time I’m tempted to judge someone, I’ll think of these 3 children and remain open to experiencing a new (and possibly more joyful) way of approaching life. And, the next time someone tells me that I don’t belong, I’ll remember that the most appropriate response is to love them anyway!