It’s been a while. Please don’t judge. Two (count them O-N-E, T-W-O) 2-year-olds… remember?
My children are not my own anymore. I mean, they are mine, I own them, in the same way I own my dog – I love them, feed and water them, clothe them, and make sure they learn appropriate tricks, but…
- Hitting Mommy & Daddy when they are frustrated (you know who you are, Elsa)
- Whining, whining, whining, and whining (James, don’t deny it)
- Needing to do everything themselves, including opening the fridge, opening the milk container, removing soiled diapers and dumping their poo on the floor, needing to greet the pink plastic flamingos next door far too often than would typically be considered “sane” when coming and going from the house.
- Oh, and need I mention the big “T” word? I love how they gently place their head on the floor during a tantrum. I can see the wheels spinning in their head, “Must scream and make a ruckus, but not injure self in the process”. Gotta love the way their little brains work.
But, somehow, even in their darkest (or my darkest) hour of the day, they have that uncanny ability to do something so damn cute it just melts the hardened arteries of your heart.
On a more holiday-ish note, we’ve only lost three Christmas tree balls to my little explorer’s grabby paws. Our tree is only slightly top-heavy, but a lovely tree at that. And, yes, this symmetrical beauty is real! Check it out, along with other “views from the Danos holiday season”.