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Today was an awesome day. And Lawd knows I love awesome days. Not that the majority of my days are anything less than good. I really don't have a lot of stuffs to complain about. I get to be with my child, at home. All. the. time.

My child is a two year old going on seven. No lie. Terrible twos? She has them. Terrifying threes? Alreads has those, also. I'm telling you, I'm in for it.  At this very moment she is  sleeping  not sleeping, yelling, "T-Rex!" and then some other stuff I can't make out from her crib. What is she even talking about? I don't even know.

Adrienne is spunky, loud, oppositional, animated, hilarious, and down right adorable. She has her father's creativity for music and my passion for art. She is spirited. She is independent. She is breathtakingly beautiful. It's like the best parts of William and I rolled into one tiny little human being of a nugget. 

I know there aren't any instruction booklets gifted to you when you leave the hospital. Any manuals on how to deal with the different ages and stages? Nada. Most days I laugh and roll with the proverbial punches that parenthood throws at you. Other days, I wanna cry, pull my hair out, stomp my feet, run out of the room, and wanna question my sanity.

"NO, you can't sleep with your frog backpack."

"T T made that backpack!!"

"I don't care who made or gave you that backpack. You can't sleep with it."

::mega screaming hissy tantrum ball of fury fit ensues::

I tell her she can't sleep with it because the straps could get wrapped around her little neck, and she could die from asphyxiation. Does she understand my reasoning? No. Does she even hear it? No. But those are the days I'm talking about, with trying moments one after another. What do I do? I deal. And administer a whole lotta time outs. 

But, this kid, man. It's like I'm feeding her miracle grow. Where does she learn all the ish that she does? And I'm not talking about counting to fifteen in Spanish. I know she learned that from her homie Dora. I guess she's learning it from me. I'm the one. I am perfectly fine with her being my mini me. Do I yell out for an imaginary t-rex or want to don my frog backpack before I go to sleep? I mean, probably not.

Anyloverofjurassicpark, today was good. We just got to hang together. Ran some errands, played some dollhouse, watched some Veggie Tales, well, I can't even. That show. is. awful. We dug around in the dirt, ate some strawberries, and colored. You know. Stuff that smiles are made of.

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