Amanda's second birthday was on Tuesday. She is doing an excellent job of fitting the stereotype of a two year old. On the morning of her birthday I was able to get her to put a diaper on but she didn't want to wear the "2" shirt I had picked out for her. She left the house in her diaper and a pair of pink mary janes, but no shirt. It took about 45 minutes and some serious negotiations to get her to put it on.
I do not have the patience for this. I'm pretty sure Andy was not this difficult at two. Sarah was difficult, but we didn't have to go as many places so it didn't matter as much. Now, we have places to be. Gymnastics, camps, yoga, etc. Appointments that need to start on time. However, Amanda wants to do things her way and if they don't go exactly as she plans it then she won't do it. Which means I now have to bake in at least an extra ten minutes everywhere we go so that we aren't late when there is a hiccup in the way she expects things to happen.
For example, she wants me to open the front door. If Andy opens it, she won't go out. She will stand there FOREVER until someone shuts the door and then I open it. Then she'll happily walk out. She has to climb into the car herself, into the car seat herself, and she has to buckle to chest strap on her car seat. If she doesn't, she goes ballistic. There are so many other things I could list, it goes on and on. She does not give in, she is as pig-headed as her mother and father put together, and that's saying a lot.
I'm glad that she's figuring out the world and that she becoming so independent and changing so quickly, but I miss the baby that I could just scoop up and take with me wherever I went. I have to think harder with this one, and I'm too tired to think.
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