One More Month Of Being Two

Yes.

All the rumors are true.

One month from today, the Terrible Twos will be over, and our rambunctious toddler will become a three-year-old.  But for another four weeks, we’re still embracing having a two-year-old fellow around here.

IMG_1557 IMG_1567There aren’t even enough words to describe how much laughter this kid has brought into our lives.

Yesterday, while I was driving the Suburban and Thing 2 was “tied down” (his words — his EXACT words) in his carseat behind me, we saw a big, yellow school bus coming towards us, in the opposite lane.

Thing 2 hollered, “Whoa!  Do you see that school bus?  Do you see it?  DO YOU SEE IT??!!”

I told him that of course I saw it, because… well… BIG YELLOW BUS.  And we were facing it, and it was kind of hard to miss.

And then Thing 2 yelled, “Oh, my gosh!  Oh, my gosh!  Slow down!  Stop, Mommy!  Stop!!!!  DON’T  HIT THAT BUSSSSSSSS!!!!!”

I said, “Thing 2, that bus is going to go BESIDE US.  We aren’t going to hit it.”  And because I’m kind of prophetic, I guess, that’s exactly what happened.

And that was the precise moment that Thing 2 sighed dramatically and said, “Oh, my gosh!  Mommy scared me!”

Apparently, you can now get your backseat driver’s license before you even go to preschool.

One afternoon last week, Thing 2 needed something off the kitchen island, which he couldn’t reach.  That may have been because I had deliberately PUT IT in the exact center of the island, completely OUT OF his reach.  Thing 2 came whipping by me, pushing his giant, Tonka dump truck.  He told me, “He stand in his truck.  He reach kitchen counter!”  And then, as he was driving at a speed that should have brought the highway patrol down on his behind, he yelled over his shoulder, “AND DON’T TELL ME NO, MOMMY!”

Last night, Thing 2 REFUSED to go to sleep.  We found ourselves on the Bedtime Battleground, which is not exactly where I love being. I think it’s because the toddler usually has all the ammunition, and I’m just scrambling around, trying to find secure footing and wondering if the general is ever going to contact me over the shortwave radio with a brand new, foolproof battle plan.

THIS is quite often how Hubs and I feel at the end of the day:

10525786_591478214314901_1001428030557650567_nLast night, Thing 2 took A Stand on his feelings about his 7:30 bedtime.  There were many, many tears, but Hubs told me never to cry in the thick of the fight, so I quit.  There were three hundred trips out of bed… four hundred requests for another hug… a thousand hollers for HE NEEDS A DRINK!

And then we put the baby gate in Thing 2’s bedroom doorway, to contain him in his own territory, while we drove the tanks on surveillance in ours.  That’s when the toddler drew the big guns and hollered, “Daddy?!  Daddy?!  Come back!  IT’S AN EMERGENCY NOW, DADDY!  IT’S A BIG EMERGENCY!!  IT’S A BIG EMERGENCY!!!!”

Y’all, we had no idea Thing 2 even knew the word EMERGENCY!  I think that’s why it was so funny, and why Hubs and I belly-laughed until our sides ached.  Hubs went to the gate and asked, “What’s the big emergency?”

“Um… Daddy?  Do you want to hold my hand?  Do you want to cover me up?”

It was 10:30 last night when that child finally fell asleep, after he had sang Happy Birthday to everyone that he knew.

IMG_1560 IMG_1564 IMG_1571However…

… I’m pretty sure that we’re still going to keep him.

He IS paid for, after all, and he makes us laugh until we cannot breathe.

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