This is Two Years Old.

Reading by SashaWarner
Reading, a photo by SashaWarner on Flickr.
My daughter at two: full of life, filled to the brim with emotions. She is in the "terrible twos." I've read a couple of very honest accounts this week about two-year old daughters -- one from a friend and one from a highly-regarded stranger. Both women said the same thing, exactly what I needed: its bad, but at the same time, it is so good. The hardest part about being the mother of a two year old can be cherishing the good moments enough to appreciate your child's independence in the difficult times.

Wednesday morning, I got up with Scarlett. Since she is up at 5:15 morning, Shawn and I take turns. She is a delicate girl at that hour. On that particular morning, life seemed alright. But then, as she lifted her toast off the plate to her mouth, it broke into two pieces. She was devastated and irate. She threw the toast across the floor three times before I took it away. Grape jam carnage across my kitchen floor. It was a full 30 minutes of fury. In the end, I asked Shawn to get up, and had a shower.

She can be so difficult. No one gets as low as she does, nor does anyone push my buttons like she does. Yet, no one else has the infectious enthusiasm and pure joy that she does. She can make me belly laugh.

Saturday morning, she single handedly got the entire family up on their feet singing and dancing to "Run-Around Sue." It was spontaneous, joyous, and all thanks to our pint-sized firecracker. We are trying to prepare her for potty training, and have been very encouraging. She now follows me into the bathroom, and cheers for me, hands held high, clapping, beaming, fist pumping.

There is no one else like her in my life and for her, and for that, I am thankful.


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