Two-Riffic
Who came up with the dreaded “terrible twos” term?!
No. Really? Who is responsible for that?
Months and days leading up to it, it was like a clanging gong resounding over and over again. “Uh-oh he’s turning two?”
“You know what they say.”
“Terrible twos. Get ready.”
“Oh that? Yeah that’s a part of the terrible twos.”
To be honest, I’d allow my mind to drift other places, anytime I even thought someone was about to mention any semblance of the “terrible twos” to me, I do believe our words have power. I do believe that whatever you concoct in your mind can happen. I do also believe in the importance of speaking, thinking and expecting highly of things people and circumstances. It is because of that, I chose to block out the voices of the “terrible two” crowd. I know people don’t mean harm, but I don’t either. So I (kind of) welcomed the twos anticipating great! (I say “kind of” because I’m still preserving my baby by regarding his age in months. You know he’s only 26 months right? 😅)The journey of being this kid’s mom has already been great so I’d really have no other frame of reference to believe or expect anything else. So what has the two-riffic year looked like so far? I’m glad you asked!
It’s looked like a whole lot of:
“Mommy I no like it!”
“Mommy I no want it!” [Asserting himself in phrases? Yes please!]
“I have it please?”
“Thank you mommy!” [Thank you for nothing really.]
The sound of feet running back and forth through the house as toys are transferred from his toy chest in HIS room to my living room carpet …and anxiety rising with every little piece that is dropped into the pattern of the freshly vacuumed rug.
The whining sound that emerges as I discreetly take out mixing bowls to make breakfast muffins. “Mommy! MOMMYYYYY I help!!” The whine quickly shifts to a chuckle as I reach to lift him up and seat him in his high chair high enough to reach the bowls and utensils.
Some mornings I chase him from my bedroom to the bathroom pleading with him to brush his teeth while other nights he chases me from his bedroom to mine begging for his “rag” to match the scarf I have atop my head. If it’s not me chasing its him. . . and vice versa. Whether it’s to eat dinner, to clean something up, to read a book to come play, there is always something lively happening. So, when I’m asked how the “terrible twos” are treating me, I really can’t think of one negative way of starting my story because it’s really been tworrific and I intend for it to stay that way.
