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Wednesday
Feb062013

Meet Two

Hello, have you met Scooter at age 2? 

I am so cute. You would never guess that earlier today I declared "No want Santa!" and deprived my mother of an absolutely adorable holiday photo of me and the Little Supervisor with Santa.

Scooter at 2 is frighteningly cute, with a head full of sometimes blond, sometimes strawberry-blond soft curls that become tight spirals on rainy days. Scooter at 2 still has the delicate skin of an infant, but the irresistible  tiny rolls of baby fat have started to melt away, leaving long, strong, fast legs that carry her down the hallway of her big sister's elementary school with shocking speed.

Little Supervisor and Scooter "shout it out, just like a rock star" before church.

Scooter at 2 is full  of love and affection. "C'mon, Mommy! Cuddle up!" she declares, offering me space on her monkey Pillow Pet and a piece of fleecy blanket as we prepare to read the night's stories. And how Scooter at 2 loves her stories. "I wan' mor'. I wan' storees mor' . I wan' mor' storees. I wan' mor' storees, peeeease. Mommy, I wan' mor' stories peeeeeese," she requests, improving her grammar with each declaration as I laugh hysterically at her (uncharacteristically polite ) insistence  on "storees mor'." 

Her vocabulary, which is full of words like dog, cow, moon, ghost, crocodile, and ladders, has a few words of her own making. "Eecy" is her name for her sister. "Ama" is what she calls all of the Little Supervisor's friends. "Egert" or "yaygurt" is "yogurt." And "picken" (rhymes with "chicken") is what she says when she wants to be picked up. 

  Aww.

That level of adorableness is a good thing, because it has kept me from shipping her off to either or both pairs of her adoring grandparents until she's old enough to go to college.

For Scooter at 2 has also attained full membership in the Terrible Two's Society.  (All you who are shuddering at this moment, consider yourself associate members: You know what it's like.) That means her favorite word is "no," regardless of the context. 

 

"No want pictures!At dinner: "Scooter, do you want applesauce?" "No! No want 'sauce!" Uh-oh. It's going to be one of those nights, huh?

At the pediatrician's: "Scooter, is this your mama?" "No!" For the record, kid, I was there when you were born, and yes, I am definitely your mother. 

At church: "Scooter, please be quiet." "No! No want quiet!" Lord, forgive her, for she knows not what she does.

At the playground: "Scooter, please hold onto the swing. It's not safe to let go." "No! No want safe!" Shocker.

At home: "Scooter, it's time for bed." "No! No want beddie!" Yes, but Mommy does.

After being told she needs to hold a parent's hand when crossing the street: "No! I no like it! I no like you!" Well, kid, right now I don't particularly like how YOU are acting either, so let's call it even and keep walking so we don't get clipped by a distracted driver checking Facebook.

While playing with a toy telephone, that asks: "Hi. Wanna come out to play?" "No! No want play!" I'm kinda cracking up that you're yelling at a talking toy phone. I wonder how Siri would respond to you.
Must try that the next time you tantrum. Which will probably be in, oh, an hour.

After a timeout for slugging her older sister, who is crushed emotionally by the incident and still sniffling in the next room: "Scooter, please say sorry to your sister and give her a hug." "No! No sorry! No want huggy!" What the heck? Is your motto "I did the crime, and now I can do the time"?????

After certain, ahem, events occur: "Scooter, I think you need a change." "No! No change! No want diaper change!" Sweetheart, this fact is indisputable, even by you.

Luckily, membership in the Terrible Two's Society also comes with an infinite ability to suddenly change one's mind, sometimes in mid-declaration. "No want Mommy!" turns into "I wan' Mommy. I wan' picken." "No want milk!" quickly becomes "I wan' milk! I wan' milk! Waaaahhhhh!!"  "No want bath!" transforms into "I wan' bubbles. I wan' bubbles now. I wan' bubbles now peeeeese." 

It makes my head spin and me wonder WHAT THE HECK I AM DOING AND HOW IN THE WORLD IS IT POSSIBLE THAT MY SISTER AND I DID NOT DRIVE OUR MOTHER CRAZY AND IS IT TOO EARLY FOR A GLASS OF WINE? IT MUST BE FIVE O'CLOCK SOMEWHERE, RIGHT?

As I quickly return to reality, I finish making Scooter the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that she says she wants. I hand it to her, and she takes it with delight. "Sammich!" she says. "T'ank yoo!"

Yep, that's Scooter at 2. 

 "Peekaboo!"

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Reader Comments (1)

Nana and Papa personally approve, and second, this message. Right on!

February 7, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterPapa

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