30 lb. Stress Factor

Having a two-year old on the cusp of turning three is like living with someone with bi-polar disorder. Okay, that may be a bit of an overstatement but most days Ava is Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde.

Take this morning for example. Ava wakes up all sweet and lovey and I even managed to get her dressed relatively stress free. I experienced only a minor hiccup while trying to tame her tangled mess called hair, but that is to be expected. While we wait for Rick to emerge from the bedroom to drive me to work, Ava and I sing songs (complete with hand motions and everything). All was going well I thought to myself, however I must have gloated a little too much.

As soon as it was time to go, Ava turned into a defiant banshee screaming nays at every suggestion I made. She went screaming into the arms of her father like I had threatened to feed her to wolves. He just kind of shrugged his shoulders and gave the familiar look of, "Whaddya gonna do?" and picked Ava up.

And to cap off my roller coaster morning Ava gave me six sweet kisses to send me off to work. Kids, they should come packaged with Dramamine!


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