Take a deep breath, and count to four…

Lillie McCanless, age 4, with a black eye and stitches and chopped hair after using safety scissors to trim it herself.

Mary Clare Blaylock, age 4, missing two teeth after diving down a flight of stairs

I think age four is THE most difficult age. Obviously, my girls have had their fair share of bumps and bruises during this stage, but it’s the “new found” independence and confidence of this age that really gets them going.  The super sassy mouths, determined spirit overload, control wars (not that I have any), extreme hardheadedness.  I remember it well with McCanless and I’m there again.   (Not that McCanless got over it all by any means; it just seems to have subsided a wee bit.)

(I realize that once McCanless hits, say 13, I’ll look back at this and laugh at my naivety.)

Although they look nothing alike at age four, I can assure you, that both of these two have given me more laughs, tears, and moments of pure exhaustion, panic, fear, humiliation, extreme anger and utter frustration in their fourth year of life than I’ve ever experienced in all of my life.

Which makes me love them that much more.

Funny, how that works.

One Comment