I've decided that parenting a two year old mirrors actually being a two year old. The highs are so high and fun and amusing and the lows are, well, trying at times. I love how funny, brazen, wacky, intractable, and curious Molly can be. I love how much she laughs when someone jumps out and says boo to her. I love that she says that Paul McCartney is her favorite Beatle. I love that she marched right up to the top of the big slide at the park today and muscled the teenage boys out of the way for her turn. I love that she does a little finger pointing dance to Stayin' Alive. There are times, though, that getting through the whirlwind of emotions that can accompany the thirty-fifth head bump (when the preceding thirty-four times didn't faze her at all. Believe me, there are at least that many in any given day, too.) can be a bit disorienting. It's a little exasperating when her tongue stays on the gross, iron train statue the entire time that her eyes are watching me and ignoring the words "that's gross, let's make a better choice" coming out of my mouth. It's a wild ride that we're on in the Doyle household many days. I refuse to call them the terrible twos because they're really not terrible at all -- Molly is just trying to figure out how to be a little person, she's not being terrible -- but I feel like I earn my comfy bed at the end of the day. Don't get me wrong, I really do love my current job more than I've ever loved anything and we have lots of good times here. Even in (most) of the lower moments, I can still conjure up that sparkling little devious laugh and wish that I could enjoy life as much as she does. To be so carefree is such a gift and the more I can remember that while I'm picking up the broken spaghetti or the eggs off the floor, the better off we all are. Still, being two only lasts 365 days, right?
Notice how her little friend Chase looks so sweet and is following his mom's directions to smile at the camera? Notice how my child is licking the gross metal contraption? Nice.
Even if that means "holding" her colored pencils and coloring book.
4 comments:
Very well said. I also often wonder why the 35th head bump elicits a complete meltdown while the previous 34 were totally unnoticed. And of course the 35th one always comes while you're in line at the grocery store, or trying to cook dinner, or what have you. They keep us on our toes!
I love the picture of Molly pushing her stroller -for some reason it really captures what you are saying.
The 2 year old stage ma;y only last 365 days, but let me give some advice to you and your young friends---the ages of 43 1/2, 42, 40 3/4 and 39 1/2 also last 365 days!!!!
Love,
Aunt Ellen who loves all these pictures and your wonderful writing!
Dear Molly,
My favorite Beatle is George because he was great. My second favorite is John for obvious reasons (if I have to explain you're not worthy!). Paul is my third favorite (close to john, but just enough removed to warrant third place) finally followed by Ringo (especially after his "no more signing things" meltdown last year. Anyway this is Gospel and you need to reevaluate your Beatle hierarchy.
Love,
Your Favorite Uncle
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