Monday, March 18, 2013

Two year olds.



I'm in the kitchen making dinner and I hear a yell of indignation from the living room. I ignore it because indignation isn't urgent and really, as long as everyone is in tact then I'm good. But after a minute it escalates into screams of 'STUCK STUCK STUCK'. Muttering I put down the spoon and head towards the living room. Last time there were yells of 'stuck' Ammie was jammed between the bottom step and a bike wheel and perilously close to dislocating something trying to get out, so as tempting as it is to leave the toddler who is securely not under my feet, I figure I'd better check. I go into the living room and Ella is lying on the sofa, flat on her back, screaming. The kid has been able to walk for a year, I'm pretty sure she is not in fact 'stuck'. I pick her up, dump her back on her bum and leave the room. Silence falls.

It's dinner time, the girls are sitting at the table eating chilli and rice with nice normal-sized plastic cutlery. I get up to fetch something from the kitchen, when I return Ammie has procured a gigantic wooden mixing spoon from somewhere and is eating her dinner with it.

'A SNAIL. A SNAIL IN AMMIE'S DINNER. AGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH.' There is a piece of rice that has turned brown where it has been in contact with the chilli. Ammie pushes her plate away with disgust and refuses to eat any more. Because there are snails in it.

'AMMIE'S FOOT. AMMIE'S FOOTSIE IS BROKOON. AMMIE HAS AN OUCHIE!' Ammie in fact has a small piece of toilet paper stuck to the sole of her foot.

I am sitting on the floor putting Ella's pyjamas on her. Behind me I can hear slurping. When Ella is dressed we turn around to get up and Ammie hands us her almost empty cup of milk while cradling another, full, cup of milk to her chest. 'Ella's milk' she tells me, brandishing the empty cup at me. 'Ammie, that's your cup, give me Ella's please.' 'ELLA'S CUP.' 

We're eating grapes, each with our own small plate full. Ammie finishes hers and looks at mine. 'MORE' she screams at highest pitch. 'MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE FOR AMMIE'. 'Ammie,' I say in a warning tone. She changes tack instantly; 'nice mummy, funny mummy! More please for Ammie please nice mummy?' Who can resist.




22 comments:

  1. Oh, I have so much to look forward to! This made me laugh. My little one is nine months old and just said his first word, mama.

    ReplyDelete
  2. "nice mummy, funny mummy" what a clever girl.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. She's a genius. It would never work on Nye but she knows her mummy.

      Delete
  3. Ammie, the leader of the pack? ;)
    Clever girls.. :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Not really, Ammie would follow Ella into any situation.

      Delete
  4. Oh wow ! The crazies. So smart and sweet, and manipulative too. Sounds like fun! If you ever want free babysitters let me know!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You may live to regret that...

      Delete
    2. :) I will let you know if we are in London. Or bring them to the tulip fields ! You can have fun while we take care of them!

      Delete
  5. Oh by the way I just read this article called "Why does my kid freak out" at Slate and thought of you, talk about synchronicity.

    "...the existence of tantrums, and the tendency for toddlers to tackle their woes through screaming and hitting and throwing, is perfectly normal because it’s sometimes “the toddler’s only recourse,” says Tovah Klein, director of the Barnard College Center for Toddler Development. If your universe were amazing and terrifying and frustrating and unpredictable, and you didn’t have good communication skills or a whole lot of experience or much of a frontal lobe, you’d freak out every once in a while, too."

    ReplyDelete
  6. This has just had me in hysterics. Brilliant. And I have this all to come!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Brilliant xx very funny they play the system at a very young age ! it only get worse ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  8. My favourite two year old memory... Taking my "vacuum cleaner obsessed toddler" to a mall where he spots a miniature Dyson in the toy section... We CANNOT afford it but let him (cruelly in hindsight) play and look at it for a while. "Right son, lets go!" (Poor thing was beside himself and did I mention that at that age he could only pronounce the word vacuum in thd rather clumsy fashion: f**ckyoom) So off we trot with a crying toddler who's yelling across the mall: F**ckyoom!! F**ckyoom!! ... Yep. Priceless.

    ReplyDelete
  9. My god they take after you and as it's been told to me, Nye. Funny pair!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. WHO TOLD YOU THAT?! Yeah, they do.

      Delete
  10. Exhausting but rewarding!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Only you can make me laugh hysterically after a day of hundred-mile-an-hour emails to an Important Literary Agent, a fast-leaking sink, driving half an hour to the dentist on the wrong day, driving back in a van whose accelerator pedal started not to accelerate, and watching my dog holding up his sore paw and wagging his tail in appeasement as if it's his fault.

    Or do I laugh like a drain because I know these Two and love them dearly?

    XXXX

    ReplyDelete

play nice.