Greetings old friend. It's been a little while since we've spent some quality time together. Sure, you have never fully gone away. You stop by every so often, just to make sure we haven't forgotten about you and all the memories we have shared. Like the time recently that I put bubbles in the bath when Staley didn't want bubbles in the bath. 20 minutes of tears over that. Good times. Or earlier this week when I wouldn't let Adelie hold any of the groceries at the grocery store because she kept throwing them out of the cart onto the floor. 3 aisles of grocery store crying and screaming. Another proud moment for you, I'm sure. And although I did start this letter with "old friend", I'll be the first to admit that you're not really a friend. If we can be honest with one another, I don't really like you at all. I've tried to teach my girls that you are unnecessary. That you are not a good thing. That we don't really like having you around. But you still insist on making your presence known in our house. You may not show up for several days at a time, maybe even a week or two, but inevitably, you always come back. And, unfortunately, I have the feeling that you have started to develop a deeper relationship with Adelie. You can say that it's your right. You can try to convince me that you are obligated to become more prominent as kids approach 2. You can even brag that the 'terrible 2's' are your shining moment. Regardless, I am determined to not let you get the upper hand. So if you think that having my almost 2 year old scream her way through breakfast because I buckled her booster seat straps instead of letting her do it herself is going to get me rattled, you're wrong. She still ate, resuming her screaming after each bite, just to make sure I understood what an injustice it was. It was ridiculous, but that's just the way you are. I know how you operate. We've done this dance before. I'm as stubborn as you are, and a childhood tantrum doesn't bother me the way it once did. I can listen to crying and screaming. I am fine with walking away from a child who has thrown herself face down on the floor. It's annoying. It's frustrating. Sometimes it's even embarrassing. But in the end, I know that you will eventually go away and I will still be standing. So if you and Adelie have decided to form this little bond for now, so be it. I'll let you have your fun. I'll grit my teeth and deal with the tears and tantrums over ridiculous things. And I'll just keep reminding myself that you are just a fleeting moment in this marathon of life. You can have your little sprint. I'm here until the end.