My blogging frequency is pretty shameful lately, isn't it? Well: sick monitoring, potty training, surgery scheduling, soccer playing, fighting about soccer playing, homework avoiding, (lack of) birthday planning, laundering, snack packing, meal cooking, carpooling, camp preparing - ANYHOO. The usual around here.
Gripe: it always irks me when some (usually old, clearly memory-challenged) lady will say, "Oh, yes TWO YEAR OLDS are all like this," or "Yes, such and such age is always like THIS..." when in my not-vast-but-vaster-than-many-people's experience with children is that children are resolutely THEMSELVES from day one. I suppose one could make broad, sweeping generalizations about a certain age group (newborns eat, sleep and poop is a pretty safe one), but I think more often than not you will meet a kid who is an exception and not a rule.
But I found myself falling into this very trap last year when Sylvie turned two: after that exhausting, very stressful postpartum time with a manic almost-two-year old who didn't sleep AND a newborn, I was sure that NOW we were in for smooth sailing.
No, Sylvie is still Sylvie. She is still a stubborn, loud, resolute little cannon of a girl.
|Some dance move|
Yesterday, September 11, she turned three.
|Tutus, tiaras and bubbles|
|Have you ever tried to potty train a kid who wears a tutu EVERY SINGLE DAY?|
Ah, Sylvie. She is still very much a force to contend with, but she is a lot of fun - yes, the source of much hand-wringing, but also of much laughter and a feeling that a party might break out at any minute just because she is HERE, PEOPLE.
Sylvie, you continue to knock us on our arses, but oh we love you and your reckless joie de vivre so.
|You can only drive so many people to drink before collapsing yourself|