I have found that I view raising a child like a puzzle or a mystery. You give birth to this being. you feed it you clothe it and it forms an opinion.
You would think you would be given an owners manual to deal with tantrums and bad behaviour but it just a bunch of trial and error until you find the right choice for that one specific occasion. Then you move on to a new situation and you must start from square one and figure it out all over again. You go through this a couple of times a year always figuring out a new piece to the puzzle. Sometimes you luck out and find that one piece works for several situations or sometimes just small modifications need to be made.
If you are crazy enough, you have a second child and for some reason you think that what you have learned from the first child will apply to the second. Granted in some instances it does and you find that you are much ahead of the game on child number two and sometimes they just laugh in your face. This brings me to my dear, dear Roslyn.
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She laughs in my face. She does not give up too many pieces in her puzzle but once and while after much trial and error I figure a piece out.
Yesterday I figured a piece out. It was a moment of clarity, I tried not to openly celebrate in fear that she would begin to laugh at me.
She is Trouble with a capital T. She knows who she is and she is only 3. She is cute and loving but she is trouble.
