On Being Two-

I only have one two-year-old, and to be thorough,  he's not even 2.5 yet so I guess I can't say I am a pro with two-year-olds. But I feel as though I have learned a few valuable lessons that I need to keep note of for when this glorious time rolls around, round two.

Being two means that the phrase "waking up on the wrong side of the bed" is just silly...some days there is no right side, some days there are only wrong sides, or maybe it's just that you woke up at all. Maybe it is that your hair was tickling your face when you stirred from a dream about puppies and trains, or maybe your puppy was riding the train in your dream instead of you, and when you woke up you were angry at your puppy, so you threw him on the floor, then you realized you threw him on the floor and you're mad because you want him back and you are somehow incapable of  picking up the puppy yourself...one never knows what really went wrong, not even you because you have the memory of a goldfish, but needless to say, something didn't pan out the way it was supposed to so therefore the moment is ruined...thank goodness, once again, for your memory of a goldfish which means that in thirty seconds you will more than likely be completely fine...and once again, no one will have an explanation as to why.

Being 2 means that food is merely a means to an end. You rarely eat something just to eat it. You must examine and explore it...you must test the boundaries of food as we know it...but only on the limits you have set for it. If it has a mooshy consistency and you are spreading it around with your hands, that is fine unless it then drops onto your pants.Somehow it's ok if you wipe it on your shirt yourself, but heaven forbid it should get dropped accidentally...and then your goldfish memory kicks in and all of a sudden you realize you have a mess all over your hands, so naturally you must scream and wave your hands wildly to try and fling it off, this typically results in particle splatter, and then you realize it's on the chair now too, and the floor and somehow your flinging hands just keep flinging, and you're not happy about it, but you can't stop because now you are screeching, and frequently screeching and flailing go together. What you are currently experiencing is a meltdown, and it's ok, because in 30 seconds once mom has wiped your hands and the floor and your pants and the table, you will realize that you have a bowl full of mushy stuff and your hands will be drawn to it once again...darn you goldfish.
Now while we are on food, lets talk about shapes, colors and textures. These are important. It cannot be too soft or too hard, too bright or too plain, too rough or too smooth. What falls under these categories is subject to change at any moment...typically you will want something processed, macaroni and cheese, spaghettios, dino nuggets, etc. or at least something not in it's easiest and most natural state meaning that you may also want a sandwich or apple slices, or orange slices, but then comes the tricky part. With a sandwich, naturally the crust must not be eaten, and this conclusion can be reached a number of ways...1- you begin eating and realize it looks different...unacceptable, you will eat until you reach it and then discard 2- you notice it right off the bat and insist that it be removed...and typically mom removes it incorrectly resulting in complete devastation and an attempt to reattach the severed crust to the bread  3- you notice it but think you can get through it so you eat all the way to it, are still hungry, so you take a bite, then the texture gets you and you realize this will not do, so naturally it must be rejected...you may gag a little for emphasis, then slowly let the slobbery intruder slide from your mouth to the table...and then who wants to look at that while they are eating, certainly not you, so you scream until mom has removed it from the table. what mom? you think you need to use a napkin? certainly not, there is no time for that- you MUST use your hand...

Once the crisis is averted you move on to your apple slices. There are peels there. Why are there peels there? You don't have time to mess with mom cutting the peel off, so you decide to move on, but you CANNOT let your mouth touch the peel, so you take one bite from the very center of every slice, and then you move on...but next time you will just want to eat the whole apple, not cut, not peeled, just bite straight from it. It is ok to eat a peel that is fully intact and even the seeds in the middle, but once the apple is cut, the peel is inconsumable (that probably isn't a word in the human dictionary. but neither are 3/4 of the other things you say)

So lets say you had dinosaur nuggets and orange slices instead...now we're talking. This is a meal that really serves a purpose. It's like dinner and a movie- and it can go any way you like. The ending is yours to decide. If the dinosaurs have all behaved properly, then they will get more than two minutes of roaring and romping around on your plate. They may get enough film time to be remembered, to bathe in a sea of ketchup or ranch, and then be mercifully consumed ...no remaining limbs, quick and clean, and it's over. If your prehistoric friends have behaved inappropriately then it is likely that you will solely remove their heads so their faces don't offend you...once the heads are removed they serve no further purpose and will be discarded in a heap on your plate.

Then come the orange slices...they can go so very wrong. peel, no peel, how to peel or how NOT to peel. Darn it peels can be tough on you. Thank goodness there are more oranges in the fridge because typically the first one is done incorrectly, which, once again, may vary from day to day. What is that mom, there aren't more? UNACCEPTABLE! You must then beat your hands on the floor for a while while mom takes the orange out of your sight...but wait, you want to eat it so you scream until she brings it back...you scowl as you eat it because 1- how dare she peel it wrong 2- how dare she not have more 3- how dare she take it away and 4- she left some white strings on it which are now stuck from your mouth to your chin...resume screaming.

This is probably the beginning of many memoirs I will be documenting in honor of my sweet two-year-old. Somehow it helps both of us, I think, to be able to write it down and read it later while laughing hysterically over the silliness of it all! So for now we will assume this is part one, and now to conclude...

There are so many thoughts I have on being 2...it is such a beautiful disaster...If we never got to experience it, there would be fewer moms ripping their hair out, less trips to the E.R., more boxes of band-aids on the shelves at wal mart, and less crusts and apple peels discarded in trash bins, On the flip side, the boundaries of creativity would never be so stretched, the world would never be so thoroughly explored and the importance of the moment never so fully appreciated. There are moments when you do the sweetest things and make Mommy squeal with delight at how adorable you are...

 There are moments so irreplaceable that I cry at the thought of never having them again, because, lets face it, time is fleeting. There are moments so terrifying that being 2 makes you do the craziest things, like lean over the drop off of the play toys at the park, or see how many steps you can skip on the stairs, or dig through the silverware drawer for a butter knife and then, naturally, run with it...but these things MUST be done, for you are two and if you never got to be two then you would never get to be 3 (which I hear is worse) and 4 (which is a toss up) or 14 (which is a train wreck) and then darn it you would never get to have a two year old of your own, and experience the joy and wonder of life so vibrantly as to feel two again yourself. Thank goodness for 2, and for newborns with their sweet smelling heads, for 6 month olds who smile at the silliest things, and babies learning to crawl and walk. Thank goodness for young children learning in school and playing make-believe in their self made forts. Thank heaven teenagers don't last forever. Thank goodness for young love which leads into mature love, which makes families, and new life. Thank goodness for the opportunity to be parents and experience it all over again. Thank you for this perfect life.