May
11
Somebody, when we were not looking, threw the Two Toggle on us. Our daughter is suddenly TWO. IN ALL ITS GLORY.
It was bound to happen. Although her birthday was back in April, we were kind of hoping against hope that maybe it would just pass us by… but nope. She’s two. And doing all the two things that two-year-olds do the world over.
Most of it of a WEENIE nature.
For example, she has discovered a keenly developed sense of IGNORE. As in, we have to shout her name repeatedly for her to acknowledge our presence. We know she has great hearing — she can hear the bubbles container being opened from across the room, and can hear the front door opening from miles away — and yet, when we are trying to get her to listen to us, answer a question, do something… suddenly and without prior warning, she is DEAF. Well, possibly not deaf — more like LISTENING-IMPAIRED.
Good thing we did all the sign language with her, right? I KNOW.
She also has discovered a very dramatic streak. It rears its head when we, the MEANEST PARENTS IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, wish to impose our will upon her. You know, with things like (are you sitting down?) CHANGING HER STINKY POOPY DIAPER. In the middle of PLAYTIME.
I know. It’s a wonder nobody has called Child Protective Services on us.
Changing her diaper when she is playing, bringing her in from outdoors, basically any change she has not approved previously with the appropriate forms completed and signed in triplicate, are met with a WAIL of faux-sorrow. A giant WAAAAAAAAAAH of angst.
Emo Baby is emo.
Mind you, there are rarely any tears. Just the WAAAAAAAAAAH of discontent.
Whatever. I am not falling for it, lady.
Going to bed is also becoming an issue. It seems that Stinkerbelle, despite the yawning and eye-rubbing and signing “sleep” and “bed” and “story”, has suddenly developed a terrible allergy to her bed. We put her in it after all the regular naptime or bedtime routine, and OHHHHHH! THE HUMANITY!!!11!!1!eleventy!!11!
She’s not ready. In theory, mind you, because some nights she’s literally asleep within moments. But not without a good wail of protest.
On nights she doesn’t fall instantly asleep, you wait a couple of minutes, and there will be the most sorrowful crying, sobbing, emanating from her monitor. Now, Stinkerbelle wears a silk bedcap to bed. She LOVESLOVESLOVES her bed cap. It’s a big, fun production to go get it and put it on before she goes to bed. But for some reason, recently, she will take her hat off a few minutes after she goes to bed. And then there’s a cry of real sadness, real sorrow. And we’ll go back into her room, and she will be sobbing REAL TEARS, clutching her hat close like a teddy bear, like her bestest friend EVER.
So we’ll put it back on and tell her to lie down and go to sleep, and tell her to leave her hat on.
And then she’ll take it off and cry again.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
She’s genuinely upset that she’s taken her hat off and can’t get it back on again. To which we always say, “Well, don’t take the damn thing off, then!”
Oh, but that doesn’t work… BECAUSE SHE HAS WHATEVER WE TELL HER ON IGNORE.
And round and round and round we go.
So yes, the inevitable has happened. Although our daughter’s birthday was last month, she has now, suddenly, officially, turned TWO. Somebody threw the switch in her, and she’s the embodiment of two. A year of TWO stretches out before us in a haze of shouted, repeated, ignored commands and dramatic episodes.
Oh well, we can’t complain. At least it isn’t THREE.
