Living with a 2 year old is a rollercoaster. One minute they are a sweet, funny, affectionate little poppet. The next, a screaming, irrational, violent mini dictator. And then, when you’re about to shut yourself in the wardrobe and list them on ebay, they switch back, give you a massive cuddle and melt your heart again. Your heart can burst with pride one minute, the next you’re googling ‘Is it normal that my 2 year old…’ when they do something you are sure is pretty sociopathic. It’s exhausting and wonderful and they turn your world upside down.
- You become the official interpreter of your 2 year olds’ constant chat as only you know what they are wittering on about.
- You answer 3780 questions. Every day. Most of your own questions, requests and instructions go ignored.
- You have perfected your ‘Oh wow!’ response so that it sounds almost genuine most of the time.
- You get excited when you see a tractor, train, fire engine etc., even if the 2 year old isn’t with you.
- You can leave the house with just a handbag, like a normal person.
- Your handbag is full of conkers, feathers, pebbles, sticks and other ‘treasure’ that cannot be left behind in the park.
- You drink more pretend cups of tea than real ones.
- You can cook a variety of meals consisting only of orange, yellow and beige foods.
- You regularly prove what a crap parent you are by serving food on the wrong colour plate, or cut in the wrong shape, or with the wrong cutlery etc. etc. Cue epic meltdown.
- A least a quarter of your daily calories come from food rejected or dropped by your 2 year old.
- You hope this is counteracted by the fact you never get to eat a whole cake by yourself.
- You have hidden somewhere in your house to eat chocolate in secret.
- You have spent too long questioning how Postman Pat still has a job, how anyone is left alive in Pontypandy, why Ryder doesn’t have to go to school and wondering what the hell Flop is.
- The thought of potty training brings you out in a cold sweat.
- You have caught puke in your hands and not been sick yourself.
- You have done the walk of shame, exiting the park holding your wailing, flailing child over your shoulder.
- As fast as you can tidy the chaos in your house, your toddler creates a fresh trail of destruction behind you.
- You have broken all your rules about screen-time, sugar, plastic tat and table manners.
- You have experienced the utter mortification of your child hitting, pushing or biting another. Soft play fills you with dread.
- You get to go on grown-up playdates with your toddlers’ friends’ mums. In the pub. With wine. And the best thing about this is you discover your little one is no crazier than anyone else’s.
And when it gets really tough, just remember, it could be worse: you could be Norman Price’s mum or be married to Daddy Pig!
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