Somtetimes I wonder why God would allow someone who is so utterly underqualified to be a mom? I am speaking of myself of course. As I hear my daughter screaming and crying over something as insignificant to me as washing her hands with a dishrag as opposed to letting her do it in the sink, I think to myself "how much more of this can I possibly be expected to take?" My daughter has entered into the age of "I want to do it myself" and of course everything is a tragedy if it doesn't happen that way. As she begins to throw one of her world class tantrums and once again I have no idea how to stop this or even prevent it for that matter I am hit with the knowledge that I have no idea how to be a parent. This thought is one that I have every day at some point or another. Like just now my daughter says to me as I write this "I poopyed mom". so I stop writing long enough to check her diaper and see that there is in fact no poop in there but she insists "there's some in there!" then she spies a pretzel on the floor and tells me its down there and then picks it up and eats it. What does one say to any of this? The life of a two year old goes from on extreme to another and I really can't understand why God so underequippes us as parents to deal with let alone understand it.

My child is a whirlwind of talk, eat, poop, pee, run. laugh, cry, scream, sing, yell. She is like the tasmanian devil from Looney Tunes. Except she looks like a two year old girl and is dressed on Mickey Crocs and a tinkerbell sweatshirt.

This is my life.........to be continued!