I think that if I knew how difficult raising a two year old was, I might have decided that I wasn't designed to be a parent. Piggy is quite a determined little girl and sometimes I have to show her the boundaries so that she knows she isn't running this show. We had a nice tantrum out at the birth center where I have my store today, and my patience and parenting was tested to the extreme, but she finally relented and picked up her toys- the cause of the ensuing battle. It was a silly test, really. I had picked up after her like 784 times already that day and she normally listens and obeys, if not happily at least quickly. BUT not yesterday. Yesterday when I handed her the chicken to put back in the basket she threw it down and flung herself on the floor kicking and screaming for "AMY!!!!" (She is one of the midwives at the birth center, who was in the other room.) Now, you have to know this kid to understand how funny her calling for Amy was. Piggy won't go to anyone except me, her dad, and my mom. She just allowed my dad to hold her for the first time this week (first time, that is, since she's been able to choose who is allowed and who isn't). Sunday School is a horrendous time each week because there are two men in the class with their wives, but I digress. So, we had a showdown yesterday at the birth center. I stood my ground and after about 20 minutes, she finally picked up the toys.
But as horrible as that tantrum was, it was sort of all worth it because on our way home she started singing. "Yes, Jesus bubble juice! Yes, Jesus bubble juice. Yes, Jesus bubble juice. Da Biba me so..." At first I was confused about what she was singing and then I realized she was singing Jesus Loves Me. I turned around and was amazed at how her demeanor had changed. She wasn't a stinky, tantrum-y, two year old but instead had transformed to the sweet angel that I wake up to each morning... "Honey, it's 'loves you,' not 'bubble juice', and I 'bubble juice' too."
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