Two and a half years our little lady Lily has been with us. Two and a half long eventful years, filled with as much misery as we have had joy!
Don’t get me wrong, it’s been wonderful (do you still go to heaven if you lie?) and having her in our lives has enriched it beyond words.
Oh, and if any of my family are reading this, don’t give me the, ‘I know what it’s really been like’, comments! We must pretend for Lily that it has been utterly wonderful.
Two and a half years……
Terrible Two’s: I read somewhere once that we must embrace our toddlers during this stage, as it is a time of wonderment and learning for our little cherubs. It’s all over too quickly they say… enjoy the ride. Really? I cannot wait for this particular ride to be over thank you. Lily has the whole thing down to an art form. She will tantrum in an instant. Stomp, shout, throw things, hit and whine. She relishes in any of these things, happily yelling at you, ” I’m whining”, “I’m shouting and stamping my feet, I’m cross with you”! “I’m not going to the naughty step, YOU are mummy”! “Gordon Bennett”!, “God damn”!
No matter what the issues are, she must, at whatever cost have the final say. It may mean a spell on the naughty step but, hey ho, she’s taking it for Team Toddler GB!
We were sitting having a pizza and salad for dinner. Lily was complaining about how much she dislikes pizza…. blah blah blah. The same old every night. If we were not to give her the pizza, she would suddenly announce that it was the best thing she has ever had, and please could she have some. Any way, we cajoled her enough to eat some of it, with promises of yummy things to follow. Every mouthful was met with comments like, “Yuck, it’s disgusting”, “I don’t like pizza,can I get down”?, “I need to wash it down, it’s horrible”, “I’m so full mummy, can I leave it now”? We could de-construct the damned pizza and she would eat the elements individually. Eventually we relented, satisfied that we had ‘won’ the battle, and once she excused herself from the table, came to my side and said, “Dinner was lovely mummy, thank you very much”! I have to admit that Allan and I did laugh. She of course is bright enough to know how utterly clever and cocky she is being, but nonetheless, she has the charm weighed off brilliantly.
“I love you infinity mummy”. Wow that’s a whole lot of love right there. Surely it can’t be beaten. Lily, to be fair is no child genius and does not understand what infinity means. In her attempt to define it, she will stretch out her arms as far apart as possible and tell you, “This much, mummy”. That in itself is quite clever I have to say.
She will happily make you pretend dinners, share her treats with you, help with housework, cooking, baking, scratch your back, brush your hair, make you laugh, sing songs, tell stories.. the list goes on.
Of course my opening comments were tongue in cheek, and Lily is truly wonderful to us and those who love her.
Two and a half is such a big deal to her. It’s a time of self discovery, independence, and learning how to cope with emotional changes. She’s trying to make sense of her world, and watch out anyone who gets in the way of that! She’ll take you down, chew you up and spit you out.
This afternoon she told us she was going upstairs to have a poop. Before going she carefully chose a book. A book that she cannot read, a book that has barely a picture to help her understand the storyline, a book by Enid Blyton about the Secret Seven, that is as thick as War and Peace! Needing two hands to hold it, she walked to the stairs. Allan commented how she really didn’t need a book to go for a poop, and suggested she left it downstairs. To which she replied, “Leave me in peace daddy, I need to take my book to read because I’m going for a poop”! So, off she trotted, big book in tow.
Being two and a half means you are funny, wonderful, clever and beautiful.
Don’t change Lily.
We love you as you are.