Over the weekend we went to First Dam to feed the ducks, but would you know that those fatty ducks have been fed so much bread, that they weren't even hungry?! Water filled bread pieces floated to shore in the handfuls, untouched by the ducks that sat lazily on top of the water and let out an occasional quack. I've never seen a duck that didn't want a piece of bread, it was the darndest thing!
And this is all to say, I have a two year old boy. If you have or have had a two year old boy, you are nodding your head right now because you know what this means. A two year old boy doesn't stand on the shore line and watch the ducks, no sir. A two year old boy tries to get in the cold water to splash. He tries to run away from the shore and find the most dangerous place he could possibly find to explore. He flings himself on the sidewalk and throws a mighty temper tantrum when you tell him he can't go that way and to stay by you.
A two year old boy is work.
After a good five minutes of him fighting going the direction we actually wanted him to go, he finally caved and followed us and our promise of fun. We crossed the bridge where the fishermen sat quietly with potato chips in one hand and a casted line in the other, all while walking so close to the edge that mom and dad could hardly control their anxiety. We walked to where the sidewalk ends and kept on going, until we found ourselves on a climbing trail that zig-zagged along the mountanside. And then we hiked.
It's always an effort to keep up with this kid, and maybe it didn't help that our dirty dr peppers were weighing us down, but we found a way. When the trail became too dangerous for a two year old boy to continue hiking, we coaxed him into turning around and hiking back down. It was not easy work, seeing as coaxing is not something a two year old boy takes lightly.
We say: "Okay, we have to turn around now and hike down because it's getting too dangerous up here baby."
And a two year old boy hears: "Stop having fun! We are mean fun-hating parents!"
He doesn't want to turn around. He doesn't know the meaning of the word dangerous.
Sometimes I have some tricks up my sleeve for when my two year old boy is extra dramatic. Those tricks usually include trucks, tractors, juice, candy, or in this case:
Hey baby, how about a piggy back ride??
He stops flailing and fighting. Back ride?! Back ride!
He hops on my back and I scoop up his diaper bum with my hands. We trot along the path, giggling and practicing our "no hands" piggy back riding. He pulls my hair and bops my head and I think, Ughhh piggy back rides really should be left to daddy... But I carry on and do a mighty fine job, if I do say so myself. Plus, I didn't get my workouts in that week so this could count for something, right? I carry that little stink bug allllll the way back to the car, while daddy snaps one hundred pictures per my request, where when we arrive my two year old boy can throw yet another temper tantrum because we are forcing him to get into his car seat when he really wants to be the one driving.
And that's a little peak into life with a two year old boy.
The absolute truth of the matter is this: after the day is over, no matter how much energy he has sucked from me or how many temper tantrums he has thrown, I lay in bed at night and think about how much he fills my heart. To the brim and overflowing, my heart. I think about his little gap toothed smile. The way he shouts "Hurry! Hurry!" while he runs as fast as his little legs will go, his hands flopping next to his waist. The way he says "Hi mom!" every single morning when he wakes up. The way he laughs at Rockie and says, "Silly Rockie!". The way he sings the intsy weentsy spider everytime he spots a bug, or wheels on the bus everytime he sees a bus.
The thing about my two year old boy is that he is amazingly talented at showing me how much he loves me. He has always been good at that. He is constantly randomly wrapping his little arms around my neck and giving me hugs. He is always reminding me that he is there by saying, "Hi mom! Hi! Hi mom!" all throughout the day. He gets this sparkle in his eyes everytime he sees me, and it's written all over his face that I am his world.
It's a big responsiblity, to be someones world. But one day he won't be a two year old boy anymore and he might not be able to show me how much he loves me as often. And one day I won't even be his whole world anymore. So when he is the epitome of exhaustion that comes from being a two year old boy, I remind myself that this age will always hold a soft spot in my heart.
This two year old boy of mine.
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