The hubs got off early today. He came in and told me that his boss asked about our daughter today. He asked how old she was now and the hubs reply's with "almost two". The boss reply's with " ooooooooo."
It's like every time someone hears how old she is, we get some kind of warning. We have heard it all. The terrible twos are among us. We hear how she's just going to be a complete monster. How she's going to just stop listening.
And we see it. We don't need the warnings. We need someone to help us. Someone to keep her for the next year or so until she turns back into the sweet loving thing we used to know. We don't need your laughs and comments. We don't need a baby who throw fits because sponge bob didn't say hey to her when she waved at the TV. We don't need a baby who only after being out of bed 30 minutes is already standing in the corner for something or another.
I don't understand this change. And I hate even more the comments about how the next year is going to complete hell. I would like to just go through this year in a ignorant haze. I wanna to blame all her acting up on her teeth.
(I just had to get open from the computer to put her back in the corner for doing the same thing she did earlier. It's only 10:45am and this is the second time she has been in the corner this morning.)
Back to what I was saying. I wanna blame it all on her teeth. She has back ones coming in, they hurt, that's why she's acting up. Is it too much to ask to just let me think that? So when I look back on this year I don't have to think of all the bad things she did and all the hair I lost.
Has anyone gone grey by the 3rd year of their child's life? I think I might and yes I'm only 21.