Tutus are too fun. I just “forget” you have them. When you ask to wear them, I actually die inside from the cute overload.

When you turned 2 y/o there was a steady 5-6 month period in which you became defiant and oppositional. I’m not saying that behavior has since passed at 2 years and 8 months old, because it hasn’t. However, the last 2-3 of months have brought about some leveling off. My hope is that it keeps toning down. Honestly, I admire some of the stark independence and defiant individuality. It’s actually something I strive to “teach” you. I’m not as big a fan of the opposition hurled in my direction. Your moods are predictable and I’ve done quite a bit of learning or I should say you’ve done quite a lot of teaching me lately. I have learned the art of deflecting energy and the power of suggestion. It’s easier to take note of the times when things are not going so well, but I’ve been working on recognizing the stillness of the water. God has a funny way of knocking me into reality sometimes. It can come from a simple thought. I never can be too confident or complacent with anything before He injects some humility. We’re starting to coast here and I’ve taken a mental note. Just as I’d done that, you experienced a monster breakdown today. You listened to my directives zero out of who knows how many times in your gym class today. The teachers didn’t experience better luck. So after taking you out of class, for a couple minutes of a reality check, you had us both convinced you would do a better job. Five minutes into our new world of possibilities, you slammed it right back into reverse. So…I took you out of class. A class I pay too much money for, a class that burns so much of your energy and a class that gives you so much joy. We just left. Well, after some awkward time spent trying to get our socks, shoes and jackets back on. (Thankfully you understood the terms clearly and didn’t cry while we did it). It’s not the first time I’ve had to give you a harsh reality check like that, but it was the first time in a good while and it left me feeling a little deflated. On the way home I talked to you about what happened while you asked me to put on your fave cartoon or music. I refused to do either. I asked you to participate in a mini zen session and you half heartedly did. After lunch I gave you some time to digest your food and insisted on a nap (since having one weighs heavily into seeing good behavior). You declined and asked to do some finger painting. I firmly denied you and all Hades broke out. I stayed firm and rode out the waves with you, quietly trying to redirect you, for about 30 minutes—that’s a LONG time for a tantrum. I tried a few different techniques and the last one jarred you out of anger and into remorse. We got it together and you are currently napping. These days are difficult for me for so many reasons. They’re much fewer and far between now, but they still hurt us both. It’s hard not to hug you when I see you struggling and it’s hard to know when I’m doing the right thing sometimes. This is a journey of self-discovery for both of us. One happens to be 2 and the other, 37. Life.

I love you.

Always be yourself. Unless you can be a unicorn, then be a unicorn.