Terrible Twos. We've always said we'd rather have a Bart Simpson than a Martin Prince, and boy, do we. No fear. No fear of parental consequences either. The past few days (in part because of the weather) have been peppered with what I call fits of the 2-yr crazies. The running and screaming and refusal to listen and follow directions...
I know things would be better in our own house (maybe really soon!?), where she can run and scream and not bother anyone but me during the day, but really, sometimes I expect pea soup.
So then, she does something heartbreaking.
I love to listed to her talk to Baby. She is so sweet and nurturing as she says things like, "oh, my precious baby daughter" and "don't worry, hon, mommy's here..." It almost brings tears to my eyes and makes me forget the throwing of 5 puzzles across the bedroom, or the thousands of rubber bands she set free...
And then. She finally gave Baby a name, after 14 months. Carla. "Like my mommy."
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1 comment:
Oh how darling. They do say the cutest things.
I so hear you on the Terrible Twos nd FWIW, all the neon signs are flashing that 3 is going to be No Picnic.
~hugs~ and house vibes!
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