The Terrible Twos: As Advertised in BalloonsCasey Mullins
This past Saturday was Vivi’s second birthday, and y’all? Two was a much harder transition than one, terrible twos aside. Two year olds aren’t babies, they’re really small kids with seriously limited vocabulary in my case. Every word she says could maybe sound like another word so it’s sometimes a giant guessing game what she actually wants. (Bless her knowledge of sign language for an awful lot of day to day activities.)
The morning of Vivi’s birthday we headed downtown to meet my husband at the finish line of the Indianapolis Mini Marathon, I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about not running because I wore a 30 pound toddler for two miles through crowded downtown Indy. She wanted nothing more than to jump off my back and run away from me whenever I stopped moving for longer than seven seconds so she was pretty grouchy and opinionated by the time we got back to the car. On the way home, I decided to make a stop at the party store to pick up a few balloons for photographic purposes later on.
ADVICE: Do not get balloons for a two year old with the two year old in tow. There will be tears and much wailing that you will not let her HOLD ALL THE BALLOONS. Also, I had no idea a balloon store could be SO BUSY at 11am on a Saturday.
I ended up carrying Vivi out of the store under one arm while clutching five balloons proclaiming 2! in my other hand. I swear that child not only goes boneless during fits, but she also sucks in her ribcage allowing her to slip out from between my forearm and body. I stopped for a moment in the parking lot and laughed at the spectacle I had become, four regular latex balloon decorated with multiple number twos surrounding a three foot tall gold foil balloon in the shape of a two, three feet above me in the air.
There have been days when I have wanted to carry a sign that says “Sick child, we all need a nap” or “Extremely depressed, please don’t judge my pajamas in public.” to lessen the judgmental stares of onlookers. Here I was in a parking lot with a shrieking child under one arm and a giant colorful sign above my head proclaiming “TWO. SO MUCH TWO. TERRIBLE TERRIBLE TWOS. DON’T WORRY, SHE’S JUST TWO.”
I have to believe that anyone witnessing the entire show from the cash register to the car totally understood exactly what was going on.
The humor of the entire situation was the only thing that kept me from crying.