I have not changed my mind- yet. Alice remains in my view the most perfect, sanguine, and easiest child to raise. And really, she is pretty easy. She likes to hug me. She's a very interesting conversationalist. Most of the time she is promptly obedient. However, she will be two years old in a month, and there is no realistic way to ignore this fact.
See, amidst her hugs and video-worthy songs and soliloquies, there is emerging a tiny person who has not yet learned that every minute detail of her life will not be simple or even what she desires. The singing caterpillar might require more room for its transport than her initial calculations. The wall will remain steadfastly in place instead of sidestepping her sprint down the hall. She will be required to consume food substances other than pizza. She will have to risk missing the dancing ponies and unicorns that are sure to arrive, and take a nap.
Clearly, these are trials that cannot be borne.
And yet, through her unique and difficult tribulations, Alice manages to find happiness. Each morning, she still wakes up, full of hope and in a good mood, she still sings Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and cheers for her own moving performance, and she still delights in the cat when it is sleeping on the couch.
I've been taking Advil a bit more regularly of late, thanks to an increase in unruly-child-related headaches, but every time she gives me a kiss and tells me she loves me, it's all worth it.