I totally forgot how revolting two can be. The age that is. Like the first contraction on your second labour, it all comes flooding back…oh yes, this. Harper is now a few weeks shy of being two and a half. That’s the pain of two, with an extra half of urgh thrown in. Now Sandra, before you tell me I am a terrible mother for saying stuff like this, I will say that it’s not her, it’s the age. See? Daisy was just as revolting at the same age.
The rollercoaster of emotions.
The tears, oh my stars, the tears.
The poor sleeping.
But worse than all of this is the play whinging and crying. Do you know of this phenomenon? Harper started it a few weeks ago as she was playing with her dolls, or barbies or something. She plays out all the emotions that she is going through, but through the toys. So the toys cry, and whinge, and cry and have fights with each other. I’m sure this is some kind of developmental breakthrough, but I like to think of it as the world’s most annoying developmental breakthrough. I half listen from another room and when I think I can’t take it anymore rush in to try and put out the fire. Only to see that it’s an imaginary fire. So yes, there’s that.
She is doing so much better since her operation though. Her sleeping is much better. Is she sleeping through the night? Notsomuch. But she is sleeping without snoring, and that’s something. She is really loving having Daisy at home every day because of the holidays even if it means that I am putting out fires all day between them. As much as they fight, they do adore each other and are firm friends which is a joy to watch.
So, two. I’m happy to say that in 6 months time we won’t be seeing you again anytime round these here parts. You are a delight, and a frustration all rolled into one big ball of tantruming joy. And somehow, just now writing all this down reminds me that three is something else entirely. Forget the terrible two’s, there are the fucking three’s just around the corner…