Today, my kids turn 2. Two. TWO! Are you kidding? Didn’t we just start solid foods or stop swaddling them for naps? No, apparently not.
Of course, the first response you get from people when you mention that your twins are turning two years old is some variation on a groan. Either they’ll make some mention of the “terrible twos,” or they’ll sadistically grin and say that two is absolutely nothing compared to three. Um, thanks?
And I get it, I do. These past few months have been but a small preview of what’s to come. Inexplicable tantrums, stealing toys, pushing and hitting and occasional biting. Insisting on doing things “all by self” and then getting super frustrated if it doesn’t work out. There are times when, if I believed in physical punishment, I think I’d smack the taste right out of their mouths. And this is only the tip of the iceberg.
But you know what? They’re also so much more fun. They tell me stories, they sing songs. They occasionally take turns without any intervention from me. They remember people and places from weeks and months ago. They are sweet and smart and silly. They are always looking out for each other.
Daniel never, ever stops talking. Becca sings the ABC song to herself when she’s playing. Daniel looks at something new and cool and says “wow” in a stage whisper. Becca carries a bucket of water all over the backyard saying, “here go Winnie!”, trying to get our dog to take a drink.
Yes, it’s hard and some parts are getting even harder. Yes, they make me bonkers on a very regular basis. But the good parts get so much better as they get older, I wouldn’t step backwards for a minute.
And, hey, we’re one year closer to preschool, right?