Noah is Two
Weird. I say this, and keep saying this, and keep saying this! it still doesn’t register. Yomi – a man that mistakes his Oyster card as an ID pass at work, Yomi – who once purchased a valentine’s card for his crush at the time, handed it to her and watched in shock horror as she giggled at the fact that it spelled Fiancée instead of Fancy. I could go on about the mishaps, the accidents, the mistakes or near death experiences, but I’m Two in. Quite possibly the second challenging phase of Fatherhood; Terrible Twos they call it and I understand why. Noah is not accustomed to our norms, he has yet to be conditioned into the ways of living so outside I am a bag of “Noah, No!” but inside I am envious of his freeness to just be. His boldness to be loud because he wants to, his gluten curiosity to taste the palate of the world on his tongue and his genuine decision to like and be friends with you.
It’s been a while, so much has happened in the last six months and it’s fair to say that I underestimated just how demanding things would be. I found that I was speaking to various people about things then doing the total opposite and keeping everything in. Weird, you grow into a man and find that there are childlike things you long for within, but these presumptions of masculinity pin you to a wall and expects you not to scream or bleed. You just take it in. I’m Two in and he is beautiful, he is funny and smart! I say Noah, what’s this and answers, following my finger to wherever he points and again he answers. He has yet to learn the skills of kicking a ball but he’s good with words which has taught me the way in which we live our lives really show in the way our child is raised; so by the end of the year, he will know how to kick a ball! not because I want him to be a footballer but because I want him to hit the ground running, exploring as much as he can as he grows.
His relationship with mum is strong. At one point it wasn’t, he would cry whenever she spoke and only go to her whenever she had food, she had to bribe for him to even get close which hurt me a little because she loves him so much. Till today, mum says that certain energies tried to prevent that bond between them but God is the almighty, and no such “thing” could stop the love she has for him. He recognises the closest to him, aunty Jo, his cousins & uncles, both grandma’s & both granddads, but not you. You’re Two out.
My boy is Two.
It’s fair to say that I underestimated just how demanding things would be without you around. I found that I was speaking to various people about things then doing the total opposite and keeping everything in. Weird, you grow into a man without the man and find that there are still childlike things you longed for within, but these presumptions of masculinity pin you to a wall and expects you not to scream or bleed. You are two out of checking how things were going, how at one point the ground beneath me cracked trying to swallow me whole, you are two out of how I danced my way out and how each smile on that boy’s face made me forget yesterday.
It’s been a while, so much has happened in the last six months, things you could hold your head up high and brag to your peers about saying that’s your son but,
my boy is Two now and he likes hats! mickey mouse just about takes up everything in the house and he can count up to 15. He knows daddy’s car. Whenever on journeys he’ll point and shout “Daddy’s Car” in his excitement. The task of the following month is potty training which will be a bit difficult because he likes to just pee randomly with little care for anything or anyone – that envious freeness we don’t have.
Weird. I say this, and keep saying this, and keep saying this! You’re two out.
It still doesn’t register.