Nobody asks for a 2 year old. Nobody gets pregnant and thinks ahead 2 years.
Before, when I was thinking about getting pregnant, and when I was pregnant, all I thought about was babies. Little, chubby little babies. You know, the ones that giggle and laugh through nappy adverts. That’s as far as I could think. Just having the baby was something I could barely contemplate. Giving birth was my biggest fear.
Well, I’ve been there, and I’ve done that.
Not many people talk to you about after babyhood. Everyone loves to coo and goes bananas about babies, feeding, weaning, poo, wee, blankets, toys, winding, baby smells, lullabies – you catch my drift. Having a baby is a total shock, like drowning before being rescued and then taking a massive intake of breath as you wake up to this reality which is nothing like you remember. You wear heaviness like a blanket. But babies are babies, and eventually you do sort of get the knack, even if they throw you a curve ball.
As they get older, people, and advice, start to drift away. Which is nice, actually. Life goes from new to…normal. Having this little person is no novelty. It’s real. Everyone gets to know each other. Lines are redrawn. Lives are adjusted. Babies turn to toddlers. And they start to be….them. A personality, a character. Thoughts independent, unknown and secret. They have a will, and they want their way.
Suddenly, you look down at this little person, with a scarily large head, who’s actually talking to you, and it hits you, you wonder how this has happened at all.
You have a 2 year old. A person. This was all your own fault.
And this is the unchartered territory. This is the bit that I should’ve worried a bit about. When a 2 year old kicks off, no one is there quoting anything at you, you can’t think back to that antenatal class which showed you the correct position to rugby tackle your toddler as they run off in Sainsbury’s Car Park.
This is really when parenthood begins. She’s looking up to me and she thinks I know everything. And I have to pretend that I do.
I never really thought about what it meant to be a parent. The baby bit was all I could even imagine. To be here now, it’s wonderful, exciting, terrifying. I think I’m doing alright. I know there are books and TV shows and yes a lot of great blogs out there I can refer to, but nothing really prepares you for having a little person. Your little person. You just want to make everything perfect for them, and I’m sure, to them, it is.
But I’m cacking myself.