I have so many thoughts and stories swirling in my head.
I'll start with my dear, sweet, loving little girl, Claire.
Who has been a little less dear, sweet and loving lately.
She has known the word no for a long time, but she's started using it much more aggressively lately.
Claire, let's put your shoes on.
Claire, don't you want to go bye-bye?
Claire, we're going to the park to play and you need your shoes on before we go.
NO! NO! NO!
And then she takes a swing. At ME — her dear ol' mother.
So, I think we've entered some terrible twos, which I'm trying my darnedest to remember aren't actually terrible. My little girl asserting her independence is a sign she is growing up and becoming a free thinker. This is good.
Now, if only we can work on the hitting.
Grace is the most unpredictable kiddo I have ever met. One day she's a firecracker, pushing me out the door while screaming "BEEP, BEEP." The next day, she's sitting in my lap, patting me on the arm, telling me "YOUUU" (That's how she says love you.)
I have found no rhyme or reason to her mood swings … she's just Grace being Grace.
And just as "happy" as I am that Claire is discovering independence and exploring her own opinions, I'm equally happy that Grace is content to be Grace.
At 23 months old, she is already displaying a character trait that I hoped to teach them later in life: Be you. Don't worry about what others' think. Be happy with who you are and be confident with who you are.
The foundation is there. She's happy being Grace.
Now, we just have to maneuver through adolescence and we'll be good. Easier said than done, I'm sure.
All this talk about growing up is making me feel mushy and sentimental.
And when I get mushy and sentimental, I turn on the country music and start looking through old baby pictures.
And when I start looking through old baby pictures, I start to miss my itty bitty little babies.
And when I start to miss my itty bitty little babies …
I think I'll go clean a toilet or two.