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Two little letters, spoken with big force.

One little word, which covers myriad things. No, he does NOT want to get in his buggy to go down the steep hill. No, he does NOT want to cuddle Mummy, only Daddy. Or Guin and his other toy penguin, More Guin. No, he does NOT want to put on his shoes to go out to play, he only wants his SHLIPPERS.

We have the following conversation seemingly on a loop:

‘Zee, shall I get you dressed for nursery now?’
Are you going to see your friends today?’
‘Are you going to see Ceylan?’
‘Are you going to see Sophie?’
‘Are you going to see Jaye?’
‘So can I just get your pyjamas off, I need to get you dressed?’
‘Do you want to go to nursery?’
‘Do you want to stay here with Mummy?’
‘Okay Mimmy.’
‘So shall I get you dressed?’

He is very nearly two and I am told it will be terrible but what does that really mean? These conversations that make no sense are amusing to all of us who love him dearly; his furrowed brow, his serious expression, his puckered lips when he is forcefully declaring ‘NO!’ are cute in their own way. This angry little person, who isn’t really angry, just a toddler not in control of his emotions, trying it on, a battle of wills. Getting him dressed for nursery and undressed for bath time are currently the biggest battles. He wriggles and writhes and hollers; he flings and flails and it is tiring to deal with every single morning and night.

This evening he was positively distraught at bath time, screaming ‘NOOOO!’ until he was purple whilst standing in the bath. I talked to him quietly, trying to soothe him with the water but his little face was forlorn.
I asked if he wanted to get out.
I asked if he wanted to stay in.

He got out. He screamed. I held him and we talked. Well, I talked, he disagreed and agreed with me in turn.
Then he got into his pj’s, sleeping bag, cot. He smiled so sweetly. ‘Ni-night Mimmy.’
He squirted milk on his nose and smiled again.
I can’t imagine two being truly terrible.
He’s too lovely for that.
Famous last words?
Am I really naive?
We’ll see.

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