My son is about to turn two this week. And I think he knows it. Because, lately, he’s been testing out a bunch of fun new personalities, that are unlike anything I’ve seen from him before.
My once peaceful and compliant second child has suddenly learned the word “no.” He has learned that he can get a reaction out of me when he rips his diaper off and entices the dog into a very naked (and very dangerous) game of chase. He has learned that he can refuse my help, and that I’d rather allow him to try and put his own shoes on for 45 minutes than listen to him scream while I help him. Overall, it’s been a pretty exciting time over here, and I really can’t wait to see what the actual terrible twos throw our way.
But in all seriousness, and especially on the days when he doesn’t wake up shrieking at 3am because he lost one of the enormous wooden blocks he likes to sleep with, it’s been pretty cool to see my son start testing out some new identities, and versions of himself.
Sometimes, when I observe his efforts, I can tell that he is copying his sister–like when he climbs on the end tables, yells “1, 2, 3, BLAST OFF” and launches himself head-first onto the couch. But other times, he seems to reveal little bursts of personality that are purely his own–like when he eats ice cream, scrunches up his nose, makes two, tiny “OK” signs with his hands and yells “ME LIKE IT!”
Many of the character traits that I would use to describe my son today, are wildly different than the ones I would have used a mere month ago, and that is pretty darn amazing (albeit, exhausting).
The other day, I was reading the old standby, It’s Not Easy Being a Bunny with both of my kids. It’s one my son has really been enjoying these days, as he is currently very attracted to any book that is a little too long and obnoxiously repetitive. And while I can’t say I love it, this book highlighted for me the almost instinctual ways in which kids (and bunnies) are constantly trying on, and testing out, new identities.
While my son is currently working out whether he wants to have an attitude or not, my four-year-old daughter is grappling with different, big-kid decisions, like whether she wants to wear dresses or shorts, lead or follow, and be funny like her one friend, or curious like the other. When I taught middle school, this kind of “testing out” was in many ways at it’s peak. I had a student one year who showed up on a Friday in a polo shirt and high-waisted jeans, and arrived on Monday with blue hair and dangerously over-sized black skater shorts.
While this was, and is, a little exhausting for me as both a parent and a teacher, it’s also really cool to see. Because that kid in the tucked-in polo shirt was quiet, withdrawn, and, seemingly at least, pretty unhappy. But the blue-haired version had a group to sit with at lunch, a smile on his face, and even willingly raised his hand in class. And while my almost-two-year-old’s newfound ‘tude is driving me a little nuts, he’s also becoming so much more himself, which, I think, is largely the point of this whole parenting thing.
So P.J. Funnybunny’s determination to become a new version of himself was a lovely reminder for me of the near-constant way in which my own kids’ identities are evolving and transforming. But, more importantly, it also reminded me of the way in which my identity has been pretty stagnant. For a very long time.
Because most adults don’t really give ourselves a lot of leeway to try out new versions of ourselves. And I’m not just talking about deciding to become more organized, or more health-conscious, or less of a high-maintenance Starbucks orderer. I mean deciding to let yourself be funny, or outgoing, or a risk-taker when, previously, you would never have described yourself as any of those things.
At the end of It’s Not Easy Being a Bunny, P.J. runs back to the safety of his crowded rabbit hole because he’s decided that that grass is definitely not greener on the other side (especially the side with skunks). And while I think the message this conveys about appreciating what you have is a good one, I also think it reinforces the idea that we somehow have to be the thing we were “born” into, or that our friends decided for us back in middle school.
While I have truly enjoyed and appreciated my year as a stay-at-home mom, it definitely slapped me in the face with a much-needed identity crisis. Being home gave me the space I needed to really think about what it is I want to “be” next. Do I want to be a stay at home mom forever? Do I want to go back to work full time? Do I want to be on social media, or even have a smartphone? Do I want to be a writer? Or a tutor? Or a school administrator?
But more importantly it also made me think about who I want to be. Do I want to continue to sweat the small stuff? Or be the habitual “rule follower” that my friends have always known, and probably been annoyed with at one point or another? Do I want to put myself out there more? Take more risks? Start allowing my kids to do the same?
Sometimes when I think about trying out one or more of these new “identities,” I find myself worrying about what happens if it’s not the right one. What will people think if I “let loose,” for a bit, only to reel it back in later? Will I be judged for putting myself out there in a way that’s different than who I’ve always been, or tried to be?
At the end of the day, I’m always going to be a “bunny”. There are certain things about myself that I can’t, and honestly don’t want to, change. But there are also things I’ve always wondered about, and other ways of living that look pretty darn appetizing to me. And if my two-year-old is brave enough to try on some new versions of himself (and be seriously judged by his dad and I in the process), then I should be too.
As always, thanks for reading, and I hope you stick around no matter which version of myself I try on next week.