Dear Elders,
Think about your last 24 months. As you know, our time unit is month, not year like you. Is there a big change for you between before and after? For example, what you can do, psychologically, socially, in terms of language development… I don't think so.
Unless you have extraordinary experiences, chances or traumas, your answer is most likely 'no'.
However, put your hand on your conscience and think about me, a poor 2-year-old...
***
I switched to supplementary foods while breastfeeding my mother. In fact, besides the supplementary food that I started as a side job, the main food became milk. I finally said goodbye to my mother's milk.
When I couldn't get up; first to crawl and then to walk stumbling; I even got excited and started running on my own.
While I had been pooping in my diaper for as long as I can remember, I started pooping on the potty. Then, even though it was difficult, I waved goodbye to him and started to poop in the toilet with the adapter. Finally, thanks to the vigilance of my elders who were fed up with diaper money, I got used to going to the toilet completely, as a reward.
***
One day I will never forget, it was about 6 months ago. We are just learning about the shame, I went behind the couch to poop. And I did. What happened then? Everyone in the house pinched their noses with their thumbs and forefingers and said "uyyyyy" to express their disgust. I was very embarrassed. I was very offended by them. I said to myself, 'What if I can't make one that smells better? The shop is yours.'
With a great enthusiasm for learning and research, they fixed all the cabinet doors that I tried to rummage through. They emptied the drawers. They made him sit on his butt every time he got up. They even forbade me from falling off the balcony(!)
***
As if that wasn't enough, I also experienced my first time abroad. I even started school. While I received the love of 15 people on my own, I tried to share the love of a teacher with 15 people. Think about the mathematics of the division process here.
My mother keeps talking about her memories of pregnancy and my father of his military service. If we tell it, no one will listen. Then when he comes home they say he doesn't tell you anything.
***
I'm aware, I talk to you as if you've grown up and become smaller... From time to time You always think I'm smart because I look so smart.
When my mother says 'don't leave anything at school', she exaggerates and misunderstands; I tried to put my poop in a bag and take it home. They said, 'Your jaw dropped today'; I looked for my fallen jaw on the ground. This is how the mind works. What can I do?
One day, we will be visiting again. They offered chocolate. I reached out and took only a handful of chocolates. Our people were ashamed of me.
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Actually, there are at home too; but he doesn't eat. It's just a child, they said.
***
I cried when I was born and they gave me breastfeeding. I said okay, they gave me food. They prepared cheesecloth cloths with special lace edges for the little drool and vomit coming out of my mouth. I said I had gas, they passed it, I pooped in specially selected baby diapers and they cleaned my butt with warm water and cotton. If only you could see. I'm so cool.
Well, everything went well; I felt loved and accepted.
But, but, yet… What about now? I realized my autonomy. I'm trying to do something. Immediately, 'you'll fall', 'you'll catch cold', 'you'll hurt yourself.' I don't understand why, is there a problem either? We are trying to build our future here….
If there is a problem in the future, say 'tell me about your childhood'; They will reduce it to these ages again. All I want is a little patience, a little trust and freedom, that's all. Is it so difficult to understand me?
Sometimes I can't help but think 'I wonder if my people don't love me'. I have one foot in infancy and the other in childhood. It's like I'm a teenager.
Uncles Fuyoyd, Erik and Piyacet wrote a lot of things. Go and read it.
***
I'm sorry. I know my conversation is not very heartwarming, it did not appeal to you. What can we do, we are in crisis… Or syndrome. According to some, there is still a crisis to come. Can I enter at the age of 2.5? Will we be held accountable in 3-5 months? Anyway...
This is a 2-year-old crisis. It's cool in English too: Terrible Two.
A period from the Book. I mean, it's like a book, it's complicated.
I'm asking you... Tell me, please.
“Did I Drive Me Crazy?”
Did I cause my 2-year-old crisis?
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