Most of this blog is devoted to Willow the Super-heroine.
As you probably guessed way back when, Willow was going to turn 2, eventually, and at that age, all the sparkle came off (in her parents' eyes anyway).
A month or two after Willow turned 2, she turned "Terrible Two." The super-hero cape came off, and the devil horns went on. That, along with Wee Baby Sister Lily, meant life got a lot more hectic for Dear Old Dad (and Sweet Pretty Mommy). Yep, Daddy went into a self-pitying (and loathsome) pit (and the blog shriveled up in the corner).
The Terrible Twos for us meant super-long bedtime battles and fight-at-every-breath tasks (from teeth-brushing to car-loading). Everything came with a struggle, a long, breathless and soul-sucking struggle.
That can wear on a Daddy, and a Mommy. And a Terrible Two.
But as my sister prophesied, the utter despair was going to pass (now it's just a smidgen of despair; I kid, I kid; life is much calmer, and quieter). I don't know if her theory is correct for our kids, but my sister said her children come into new ages roaring like lions but calm down to lamb-level six months in (she also warned age 3 is worse than age 2 ... oh, God, I hope not!).
Anyway, Willow has calmed down. I don't end up doused in sweat trying to brush her teeth, and Mommy and Daddy don't collapse in to tear-soaked corners at every bedtime. And sometimes, sometimes, I can get Willow dressed in less than 30 minutes (and without a house-encompassing chase).
But still we, the parents, speak longingly almost every day about getting a day or two, or even an hour of two, childless, where we can just sit quietly. Yep, that's it. We just want to sit there. Quietly. Ahhhhh.
Enjoy the journey.
As you probably guessed way back when, Willow was going to turn 2, eventually, and at that age, all the sparkle came off (in her parents' eyes anyway).
A month or two after Willow turned 2, she turned "Terrible Two." The super-hero cape came off, and the devil horns went on. That, along with Wee Baby Sister Lily, meant life got a lot more hectic for Dear Old Dad (and Sweet Pretty Mommy). Yep, Daddy went into a self-pitying (and loathsome) pit (and the blog shriveled up in the corner).
The Terrible Twos for us meant super-long bedtime battles and fight-at-every-breath tasks (from teeth-brushing to car-loading). Everything came with a struggle, a long, breathless and soul-sucking struggle.
That can wear on a Daddy, and a Mommy. And a Terrible Two.
But as my sister prophesied, the utter despair was going to pass (now it's just a smidgen of despair; I kid, I kid; life is much calmer, and quieter). I don't know if her theory is correct for our kids, but my sister said her children come into new ages roaring like lions but calm down to lamb-level six months in (she also warned age 3 is worse than age 2 ... oh, God, I hope not!).
Anyway, Willow has calmed down. I don't end up doused in sweat trying to brush her teeth, and Mommy and Daddy don't collapse in to tear-soaked corners at every bedtime. And sometimes, sometimes, I can get Willow dressed in less than 30 minutes (and without a house-encompassing chase).
But still we, the parents, speak longingly almost every day about getting a day or two, or even an hour of two, childless, where we can just sit quietly. Yep, that's it. We just want to sit there. Quietly. Ahhhhh.
Enjoy the journey.
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