Mother (Almost Never) Knows Best: Now You are 2: An Open Letter To My Son

Monday, 5 March 2018

Now You are 2: An Open Letter To My Son

So, my baby, now you are two.


I can honestly say I do not know where the time has gone as it feels like only yesterday that I was cradling my stomach in the high dependency ward as you wreaked havoc inside the womb.  But perhaps I am being unfair, you see, you actually did nothing wrong; you survived the belly of the beast, managing against all odds to make your home in a rather inhospitable environment. The doctors worried needlessly.  They fretted that you were struggling to survive, arranging weekly scans and bi-weekly checks to assess your health, when actually you were thriving.


Their concern led to you being evicted at the earliest opportunity and you did not disappoint; bursting on to the scene with the vigour and enthusiasm of a toddler in a toy shop and our lives were never the same again.


From the day you met, your devoted big sister has lavished attention upon you and you bask in the warmth of her affection and tendency to relent over toys, TV shows, food and even clothes.



Despite mostly getting your own way, your spirit animal would likely be the Honey Badger as your adorable little face, which automatically induces complimentary attentions from strangers in the street, belies a fiery temper when frustrated or crossed.

Never take this as a criticism.


We love your spirit and, in between short lived outbursts of anger, you are the sweetest, most affectionate little boy. Your mother delights in this as your sister, whilst empathic and caring, is not one for physical affection, routinely requesting that she not be "squeezed too tightly" whereas you would be held from dawn until dusk.


Your speech is taking shape with words being added to your vocabulary on a daily basis. Currently, your sister is the focus of most of your nonsensical babble as she has perfected the art of pretending to understand, muttering responses such as:

"Oh really!"
"That is amazing!"
"Tell me more!"

When you do make sense you favourite phrase is "are you OK?" Which you ask every member of the family multiple times throughout the day, whenever their expression falls short of anything other than deliriously happy. Other essential vocabulary includes "Blue", "Dinka", "Anana" and "Dog" referring to your snowsuit, drink, banana and well, dog respectively.



Speaking of Dog, he, Fox and Dennis appear to be in some sort of polyamorous relationship which you disrupt on a nightly basis by favouring Dog over all others despite the fact that he is a little worn and not particularly soft. By the way, it was your father who tumble dried Dog after he survived a night of the norovirus. He is now a little rough around the edges and won't talk about what he went through other than to refer to it as his "'nam" (Dog, not your father).


We, like Dog, love you very much.
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