We’re more than a few weeks past your second birthday; a whole month has gone by and I’m doing a terrible job of keeping track of the things I know I’ll want to remember. So here are a few thoughts on you at 2.
All of a sudden, you’re a little boy.
From the moment you wake up, you’re on the go. In fact you never really stop, although you love books, and paint and play-doh will keep you sitting and occupied for a few minutes (until you need your hands cleaned because you hate them being sticky). You still love anything with wheels, though you’ve recently discovered Peppa Pig and the obsession is strong: your oinks and dinosaur roars are on point.
You chatter away constantly, something I adore and, let’s be honest, sometimes find mildly irritating. Your words are coming thick and fast, you love naming the colours of everything you see: star, blue, wheel and “over there” are all recent additions, as is “no WAY!” The excitable and enthusiastic “woooaaaaw!”s that started when you were about 1 are probably still my favourite.
You love playing in water, and throwing things in puddles, in the sea, down the toilet. Let’s not talk about what happened to my make up brushes.
After Daddy, “gaggy” (Granny) is your absolute favorite, and I feel so lucky that I get to see this special relationship blossom.
Like me, you’re not a fan of waking up from a nap, but unlike me, you can take or leave food: most of the time you’re too busy to eat, but if you’re in the mood you’ll eat anything. You love noodles and fish and your daddy takes great joy in the delight on your face after he’s slipped you a chunk of smoked sausage.
Music and dancing are still up there among your favourite things to do, and so far Bob Dylan’s Most Likely You Go Your Way has brought out some pretty impressive dance moves.
We’re still figuring it out, you and I. I’ve felt pushed to my limits, at times, when you’re behaving exactly as is “normal” for your age and finding things too much, or can’t communicate what you want, or feel. I’m trying hard to remember that’s what it’s about: to be a gentle parent and help you work through your massive feelings.
I have to remind myself regularly to lower my expectations to things that are more in line with what is normal for your age. And that’s probably the bit I find the hardest: as stupid as it sounds, it’s tiring constantly being the adult, having to find endless patience and understanding. I fail regularly, but I am trying.
Watching you learn and being around you is among the greatest joys of my life. You’re incredibly sociable and have so much love, for people and inanimate objects, and your sporadic kisses and cuddles make me stupidly happy.
So, this is you at 2. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to the age you’re at. Time does funny things when you’re a mama, and all those cliches come true. The “time flying” cliches, and the “they’re grown before you know it” cliches. I do not want to parrot cliches, but so much of it is unavoidable: changes come so quickly and our days are so fast, full of the domestic necessities of everyday life.
But I so love being your mammy. I’ll never be able to articulate just how much, or how much joy you’ve brought to my life, though I hope you always know, it’s a lot.