In less than 24-hours, my daughter will be two. TWO. I can’t believe it. “Two can be terrible,” I’ve heard it all my life. But if two is anything like the days leading up to it, then “terrible” it simply won’t be.

Two is a messy, side ponytail of long, thin hair with a big white bow.

Two is a proud smile after chubby feet crunch on a stale leaf.

Two is being genuinely excited to put on shoes every day.

Two is mispronounced words like “gwah-moey” and “rah-ee” (guacamole and Rocky).

Two is learning colors and how to swim and where to potty.

Two is solidifying your left-handedness.

Two is never feeling or expressing an emotion half-heartedly.

Two is wrist creases with child hands on the ends instead of baby ones.

Two is a belly that sticks out that everyone loves and praises.

Two is a bed full of blankets and stuffed animals.

Two is a large sleepsack and hoping they make one bigger since you love it so much. 

Two is playing in your playroom with any willing participant.

Two is asking to see your grandparents. 

Two is demanding pizza for dinner.

Two is showing your teeth for every picture.

Two is an unprompted kiss, then a silly trip between my legs. 

Two is “Mine!” and “O, wow!”

Two is wanting your paci and me letting you have it for a while longer. 

Two is repeating some Bruno Mars lyrics and making Mom and Dad laugh and turn on Christy Nockels instead.

Two is making friends. 

Two is starting dance.

Two is vulnerable, unashamed, confident, and bold.

Two is still having your parents as your “bestest” friends.

Two is being beautifully unaware of all that we strive to protect you from on a daily basis.

Two is forming your own opinions and preferences.

Two is saying no (a lot).

Two is wanting panties like Mommy and red toes like Mommy and to write with a pen like Mommy.

Two is telling Daddy “You, play.” “You, push.” “You, sit.”

Two is reading 12 books in a row.

Two is belly laughing at Paw Patrol and Finding Dory.

Two is stealing drinks, giving kisses, grabbing necks, loving animals, playing outside, and dancing constantly.

Two is spending every day with Mommy and loving it.

Two is a strong will.

Two is a quick apology and kiss.

Two is a birthday trip to the aquarium.

Two is the Chick-fil-A play place with friends.

Two is LOTS of talking.

Two is my new favorite age.

Two got here faster than one did.

Two is the stepping stone to three.

Two is more space being taken up on my abdomen and in my bed by you when you cuddle me for at least 30 minutes every morning after you wake up.

Two is nearing closer and closer to the day when you don’t want to do that anymore.

Two is a giggle and “Mommy” I wish I could bottle up to save for the days to come when my house is quiet and I’m sick of being alone.

Two is viewing Mommy in such a way that I wish you always would.

I don’t want to keep you from growing up, but it is going a little fast for my liking. Each new age and stage becomes my new favorite, but I find myself wanting to experience the previous one for just a little while longer. The days of me being your whole world are numbered, and I know even as I enjoy whatever future phases we find ourselves in, I will always miss these precious days. 

Two is here, and you are mine, and I could not be more thankful.

Originally published on the author’s blog

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Abbie Dunlap

Abbie Dunlap writes about her personal experiences in hopes that others may be able to draw encouragement through reading about them. You can find her at

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