Ever experienced a tornado? I have. I’m the father of a 2.5-year-old boy.
Like a tornado, he often strikes without warning. And while he may rage for a short duration, the damage left in his wake can be catastrophic. Our furniture, our walls and of course, my testicles, can all testify to this.
We’re making progress, though. Now, when Noah throws a tantrum, we encourage him to recognize the feelings, and to channel them into a watered down expression of violence. Instead of throwing a Magna-Tile at daddy’s forehead, hit a pillow instead.
The first time we gave him this advice, his eyes lit up. “Wow, he understands,” I thought. Sure enough, Noah walked up to the white sofa pillow and took it in his hands. “Yes, just like that!” I cheered for him. Too soon. Like a roided-up Barry Bonds, he took the pillow and swung it at me with a force that might render him a prodigy in baseball or golf.
Like I said, we’re making progress.
Forming a good human from the moldable clay that is a toddler is like running a marathon barefoot. You can do it, but it’s gonna take some time.
He’s a beautiful creature, though, curious and smarter than he ought to be. He’s hilarious too. As someone who loves words, one of my favorite parts of being his dad is watching him navigate the use of language. Here are some Noah-isms:
- Bambaid = Band-Aid
- Pack Pack = Backpack
- Blue Hippo = Stuffed animal that is nothing like a Blue Hippo. It’s a badger.
- Alligator = Elevator
He also speaks in the third person, which will surely go away soon.
But, hopefully not a minute too soon.