Two years olds are extra. Extra loud, extra dramatic, extra needy while extra independent. They require a lot of patience and grace and the sooner you realize keeping calm under their tyranny does everyone good, the better.
We had 3 two years olds today.
We have been so busy these last few months, y’all. We have dealt will a number of illness, I’ve joined two cohorts, we have been busting our asses with Wise Woman Apothecary, and trying to keep our spirits afloat. This week, one of our sisters, who is Philly area born and bred, came home to visit. Today, I was able to bring my babies to meet hers.
We were four adults with ten kids between us, eating brunch, laughing, sharing stories, and making the best of our brief time together. The world is ablaze outside. But inside? Sisters and aunties create smiles and wipe tears, insist on kids having too much snack and kiss too many baby cheeks.
Just for a few hours, we are able keep the beast at bay outside and love on each other as long as we can. We are patient and graceful and loving. As Brown girls, we gotta get while the getting is good. Hold each other. Make the most of each moment.
This country is shit and its forceful individualism ideology keeps us from getting together, healing together, being community. Find your people and kiss their faces as often as you can. With their consent, of course.