The words tumble out of his mouth in a jumble of mixed up sounds and syllables. And yet he seems to assume that I understand every word.
When I ask him to repeat himself he gives me an exasperated look and repeats the same gobbledegook first a little slower, and then faster when I still don’t understand.
After a few incorrect guesses on my part he flings himself to the floor and cries.
It is exasperating and endearing at the same time.
In fact my Small Boy is exactly that… frustrating and beautiful all at the same time.
In a few days he will be two.
Two is full of juxtapositions and impossibilities.
Two is about wanting to change the laws of physics. It is about wanting to be both big and little at the same time. It’s about wanting Daddy when there is only Mummy and Mummy when there is only Daddy.
Two is about needing a nap only on the days when we are too busy to have one. It is about trying new things, but being set in your ways. It is about talking a mile a minute yet no one can understand what you are saying.
Two is about being oh so grown up and yet still my baby boy.
Happy birthday to my almost two-year old.