I’ve been a father of 2-year-old twins for one whole day and I have already gained wisdom.
I have learned…
Being two is not about being unhappy. It’s about being unhappy and letting everyone within a five mile radius know about it.
Being two is telling daddy in the saddest voice that she can’t find “fishy” – a toy that she was very attached to the day before. After spending 15 minutes searching high and low to be the hero for your little girl, you finally find “fishy” and triumphantly present it to your little girl while fully expecting the biggest smile in the world and perhaps a huge bear hug. Instead, when seeing “fishy” she shrugs her shoulders and turns to play with another toy. Apparently “fishy” was sooooo 10 minutes ago.
Being two is telling your Daddy what to do… (Standing while feeding the twins yogurt this morning):
TheMonk: “Sit DOWN, Daddy! SIT DOWN!”
Daddy: Oh, okay. (Sits obediently)
Being two is deciding you don’t want to wear those shoes. No, you want to wear the other shoes. THE OTHER SHOES!!! (Other shoes are produced.) On second thought, I do want those shoes.
Being two is giving play by play to everything. “All Gone, oatmeal!” “No pancakes. Only oatmeal” “Daddy going bafroom.” “Daddy tooted!”
The “terrible” twos, huh? Why do I get the feeling that having two two-year-olds is going to age me a couple of years myself?
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