I recently confessed that we're in the thick of TANTRUM SEASON with Juliet. One moment I'm admiring her calm, while the next I'm chasing her around the flat, begging her not to smash my eyeglasses on the tile floors. There is none of this in-between stuff - she's either a complete angel or a total TY-PHOON.
The other day, after a PARTICULARLY INTERESTING afternoon of parenting, we were riding the elevator in silence until Phil remarked (in fear), "WHAT IF JULIET IS THE BAD ONE?"
To which I exclaimed, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!"
To which HE responded, "WHAT IF NORY IS THE GOOD ONE?!"
To which I insisted without an ounce of confidence, "NAHHHH.....NO WAY."
But, YOU GUYS....
WHAT IF....
ALLLLLLLLLLL THIS TIME,
we've been misled?
I've been calling it a "season" (as in, a brief or temporary period of time) and now I'm thinking that ONE SEASON is a thing in some geographical places and
WHAT IF....
ALLLLLLLL THIS TIME,
the wild child is, in fact, Baby #2?
That face. OY.
Y'all can keep chuckling over there.
I'm going to embrace the Wild Child's naptime and CHOOSE TO believe in a tantrum SEASON over here in Kuwait. Where the leaves are not going to change colour. And the snow isn't going to fall.
Yes. About that 'being tricked' commentary: I hear you! The one who was least likely to ever leave home or live no more than 5 minutes from home base is now living where?
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