There is nothing like the smug face of a two-year-old who has won. It is a face I am sadly all too familiar with.
Sure two-year-olds are unbelievably cute but until you have been woken up at 3am by a tiny person irrationally demanding to eat ice-cream and watch Netflix on the couch, then you have never truly lived.
Anyone who has a two-year-old will know that they are outrageously emotional
monsters beings with enough intelligence to harbour opinions and the bravado to share them widely. But when you have a two-year-old on your hands for the second (or third or fourth) time, you have all of the above layered with the sass of a five-year-old.
They stomp around the house muttering phrases like “it’s not fair” and “fine” and play with Shopkins and other completely inappropriate toys for their age, showing zero interest in “baby” toys.
Unfortunately they are also very good at copying whatever expletives they hear their parents say, always in the right context. Or so I’ve heard…
Their foods of choice are pasta and hot chips. One day they will prefer babycinos and the next milkshakes, but you will never know which until you have ordered the wrong one. Watching them eat an ice-cream or chocolate is like nothing you have ever seen before, requiring a HAZMAT team to tackle the clean up job.
The masters of public tantrums, they truly have no shame. The larger the audience to witness the injustice of their life, the better. And all the more likely that they will achieve a good outcome in the toddler vs parent battleground.
And then they sidle up to you and ask you for a “duddle” and give you a wet sloppy kiss all over your nose. How can you resist? The bottom lip quiver gets me every time!
The thing is that two-year-olds are always the winner. And I’m ok with that. I know from experience that you don’t have to win every battle to turn out a good kid who understands boundaries and the meaning of the word no.
They are only little for such a short time. I would take every tantrum and battle if just for one more sleepy cuddle as they drift off in my arms. Every “No, me do” for one more day of me being their whole world. When you are big and grown I will sit with the memories of every tantrum and duddle with all the fondness in the world.
So my dear two-year-old, you win. But no, you can’t have ice-cream for breakfast, well not today at least.
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