Like so many other parents, we hold our baby girl in the highest degree of perfection. When she was born, she received two 10's on her apgar score, (which is not a common occurance) and set the bar high for all future baby comparisons. She had a full head of hair, and to this day I still can't get through the grocery store without getting stopped. "Oh, what a cutey!" Her personality only seems to match because since the time she could smile, she seems to dole them out at the right moments. I think she knows exactly how to work a crowd at the tender age of 11 months. Yes, we are blessed.
However, as of late something very unattractive has simmered up. Our time of relatively easy parenthood has officially come to an end. Temper Tantrums. Blood curdling, screams loud enough to filter through our entire neighborhood. "How can this be?!" I wondered. "She's not even one."
According to the experts, the terrible two's can start considerably early, and it seems that that ugly green mist has descended upon our home. It can last for up to a year and there's nothing we can do but hug and hold her. On a brighter side, does this mean she'll be an angelic two year old? Will the nice old ladies stop once again and comment, "What a sweet demeanored little girl!"
Looking in the mirror this morning I swear I found a grey hair. Thanks Ava.