I can't believe my little Athena will be two years old in a month
and a half. It seems like only yesterday I was anxiously
awaiting her late delivery, munching on ice between contractions. Nearly two years have passed, and my little girl is a beautiful, blossoming toddler with impeccable manners. That's not an understatement; the other day I heard her sneeze, say "bless you" to herself, then thank herself. She's polite even to herself.
But between episodes of independence and adorable-ness [no, that's not a word], there are sneak-peeks of what's commonly referred to as "terrible two's." Right around 4 in the afternoon
is when some irritable, fussy demon-thing takes over my innocent daughter's body
and makes her throw tantrums and shriek and cry. The demon-thing hangs around until dinner around 7, when it's sedated by food and then calmed in the bath. By then, it's bedtime and the monster has
retreated until the next day, when it reappears as my daughter throws her sippy cup across the room because I didn't let her do tribal dances on the kitchen table.
When the demon-thing is not in possession of Athena, her personality is making leaps and
bounds as far as development goes. Each day she is more defined as a person. She loves getting on "stage" [usually a book, box or piece of furniture] and singing into a microphone [a shampoo
bottle or sippy cup]. Her social skills have just flourished; not only from daycare once or twice a
week, but also from spending time with other toddlers. I'm so proud of her.
Surviving Athena's terrible demon-thing possessions isn't that difficult if I keep her usual demeanor in mind. As long as I tell myself that I just need to make it until bedtime, I can put up with the screaming and throwing and irritability. Then, the next morning when I go to get her out of bed, my sweet little toddler has returned and is just as happy to see me as I am to see her.