Thursday, February 11, 2010

Being two

Connor will never be two again. This suddenly occured to me tonight while I was watching Con "swim" in the tub like a chubby Michael Phelps on speed. All of his cute little two-yearisms. That sly little look they give you out of the corner of their eye when you tell them no. Its still so cute and funny when they do it anyways just to see what happens, rather then because they know that they can out run you and will ignore you anyways so it doens't matter. Only a two year old would pour his sister's juice on the floor so they could lay on their belly and lick it up. Not to be funny or act like an animal, but just because that seems like a great idea. Only a two year old would let his sisters dress him up like the leader of a gay Mardi Gras parade. Two year olds have no self doubt, they are sure they can do anything you can do. No challenge is too big because they haven't learned that some things are just too hard yet. Everything that comes out of his mouth is cute. Minus the frustrated screaming that comes all too often when I don't know what he wants and he can't tell me. One of Connor's well mastered words is "please." He knows the sign and can say it fairly clearly. He just walks around pointing to what he's after, gives you his most charming smile, sign, and say "peeze." Its hard to say no, but don't worry after a time you learn to turn him down quite easily. The sheer joy on a two years old face when they get what they want cannot be matched. Nothing lights up Con's face like handing the kid an almost can of diet pepsi. Its like he won the lottery every time.

I'm sure some of my sadness in my realization that Connor will never be two again lies in the fact that I will never have a two year old again. For those of you naysayers who don't believe I am done having kids, no this is not my hinting at additions to the family. Despite how long each day can seem, when you really sit back for a minute it becomes painfully obvious that those little hellions that make you want to run screaming from you house, are going to be snotty, self important teenagers way too fast. And they won't seem nearly as cute. People always complain about the terrible twos. I've always felt that between one and three is the best age. Their little personalities are coming out, and everything is a new discovery. Plus they lack the vocabulary to let you know what they really think. With Connor, I feel like I'm just trying to slow time down. I keep hoping that if I really savor as much of it as possible maybe it won't see like time is flying before my eyes. I keep hoping but its not working.