Two

Two gets a pretty bad rap.

If you should make it through the first year of parenthood phase relatively unscathed, the last thing you want to hear is that your beloved is going to turn into a small monster upon his or her 2nd birthday but in all likelihood, someone will still think it’s good idea to warn you about the “terrible twos”, just in case you hadn’t heard.

Lilly turned two just about three months ago and like every milestone with a second child, it was different. Sure, there were tears (mine) about what feels like end of babyhood in many ways and of course, there was cake. But when it came to the requisite commentary on the arrival of age two that well meaning strangers offer in line at Target or at the park, this time I just smiled because we’ve been through this before and my take on two is a little bit different.  The truth is, I loved two with Zoe and I kind of love it even more now.

Two is honest and raw and innocent. Two is intense and knows that all feelings are big feelings.  Two thinks change is exciting but also really hard (isn’t it?) and that change is especially annoying when it means you have to stop doing something that’s really fun. Two knows what she wants and what she likes–that is, until she doesn’t want or like that anymore. Two tries a new food and either pounds the table demanding more or spits it right out at you but you won’t have to wonder whether she liked it.  There is no filter, there is no pretense, because two is honest and raw and innocent.

Two means starting to notice that you have feelings too. Two sees that you look tired or maybe sad and offers a sticky hug or their dingy stuffed animal to hold.  There is no purer gift than an offering from a two year old.  Two gets mad at you–no, two gets infuriated with you for doubting her ability to independently put on her shoes, buckle a seatbelt, read a book by herself, bake a pie, you get the idea.  Two pushes you away one minute and a half second later clings to you like a spider monkey. Two is all about joy and pride at what she can accomplish all by herself and utter despair at the things that are just so hard.

Two stops to smell the roses, or touch the mailbox, pick up an ant or stomp in puddles.  Two isn’t in any great hurry and knows that when something is beautiful, it’s worth stopping to look, to touch, to smell.  Funny shaped clouds, a bird on the telephone wire, a cross eyed dog–two finds more beauty in each day than most of us notice in a year. Two takes what feels like hours to walk places, to pick the berries, to pull her own shirt over her head.

Two takes forever to climb the stairs up into our second floor condo every single day and in doing so, reminds me every single day that we really don’t need to hurry,  that this time is passing too quickly as it is. Sometimes I get to hold her sweaty little hand as we climb the stairs. Other times, I am denied but we still walk side by side and every day, I am so very grateful to be slowed down by two.