A Letter To The Terrible Two's

Dear Terrible Two's,

Hi there, cutie pie! Yes, I know that chronologically speaking, you are not here yet. You are still 6 months away from showing up in our sweet baby girl. She's just as lovable as can be, barely starting to exhibit any signs of your recognizable traits. But in the name of sanity, I'd like to have a little chat with you - like a backstage pep-talk of sorts - before D-day arrives.

You see, today is Lauren's 18 month birthday. I'm beginning to notice little speed bumps in our day that warn me of your imminent arrival, and I really have only one important thing to say about that: GO AWAY. (I understand that you have a tendency to need things BOLD and UNDERLINED and EXCLAMATION POINTED!!!)

I mean that with all due affection and hospitality. While some other children may need your bursts of personality and temper, I can assure you that we are full-up in this household. You may remember that my older daughter, Mia, is still clinging to some stray bits left over from your last visit 2 and a half years ago. You showed up a mite early for Mia - around 15 months - and your memory has held on tighter than bark to a tree. I feel safe in saying any attention grabbing tantrums have made quite the impression on the little sister, therefore your extra exertions in that arena are unnecessary.

Also, if you do show up, I should warn you that we are not as unprepared for you as we were on the first go-round. I, for example, have become proficient in giving time-outs. I almost never laugh when I should be scolding. My husband is very skilled at carrying a thrashing body out of crowded buildings. We are both quite a bit more anaesthetised against feeling bad for causing toddler-disappointment. Our ears have been physically sealed shut against the sound of whining. Honest. It's lost on us. Stick to the the first-timers, little darlin' - they're bound to appreciate the full spectrum of your charm anyway; I'd hate for you to go under appreciated.

What I'm trying to say is that you won't get anywhere with us. We're old hats. Stubborn, old, unfashionable hats that are quite likely to send you to bed with no food after you've tossed it all over creation during a tantrum, while the rest of our happy little family feasts on dessert. You'd do much better to sit down with a cuddly toy and think about the good things in life: Smiles. Cookies. Play dates. Library visits. Ice Cream. Laughter. Toy stores. Things that will never be yours if you don't shape up and revert to your One Year Old sweetness or fast-forward to your Four Year Old sense of understanding.

Now listen - there's no need to cry! We'd never turn you away if you showed up at our door, you know. It's just...we'd love it if you'd be a bit more reasonable. Seeing as how you'll be an extended guest, and we'll be living up in each other's business for at least the next year and a half, it's only fair that we've told you how we feel. If there's anything you'd like to say in rebuttal, feel free to use your words in a calm and patient manner. Otherwise, you'll be sitting in time-out for screaming and kicking your feelings in our general direction.

Seriously and Sternly,
Mom and Pop Heavenly



PS - If you still demand to be admitted into our household, there is one aspect that is better than any other place you might otherwise have landed: We have Nana. She's here a lot; we're at her house a lot. She'll give you goodies and treats no matter what your behavior, while convincing us not to worry too much about the length of your visit. Because, as she often reminds us, the teenage visitors stay much longer.


This post included in Real Life's Your Life Your Blog.