Wednesday, April 18, 2012
She is 23 months old. And she is our hilarious little angel. Soon, we have to start saying "2". Her age won't be in months anymore. It's crazy that she is going to be two...and even crazier that I have only known her for two years. She is amazing.
I love this age.
Twos are not terrible.
Two year olds are people, they get angry, they get upset, they are silly, they are learning. They are learning EVERYTHING. They need to be taught everything. They are excitable and passionate and yearn for independence, seemingly overnight.
But one thing they are not, is terrible.
It breaks my heart when I see a toddler have a tantrum and someone inevitably mentions the "terrible twos". In my opinion, twos aren't terrible. Can they be trying? Of course. Exhausting? Absolutely. But to classify an entire year of a child's life as terrible, is just sad. And not fair. I'm 25, and I get upset, angry, defiant, stubborn. Am I terrible? I don't like to think so. I'm human.
Things Reilly has said to me recently:
Mommy, I love you too.
Thank you SO MUCH Mommy.
Good job making dinner, Mommy!
It's okay, don't cry, baby Reagan.
Mommy, you so funny.
Don't ever let anyone tell you you're terrible, babygirl. Not at two, not at twenty two, not at forty two. You are wonderful.