Drama

The prognosis doesn't look good: I think we may have a case of early-onset terrible twos. It seems like every moment of my life is caught up in a huge power struggle with Ama. I think she hates me. This is a picture from her 18-month JC Penney photo session a couple of weeks ago. Somewhere between the 17 runaway attempts and the throwing of the teddy bear, they seem to have captured her essence perfectly. The furrowed brow, the anger burning in her eyes, injured and blaming. She used to be nice.

We have all varieties of drama these days, from naptime drama to mealtime drama to the dreaded baba drama. She habitually throws things. If she doesn't happen to be holding anything when she gets mad, she will go looking for something to throw. Sometimes she will go pick up something she has just thrown in order to throw it again. In fact, I think you could measure her anger by how many times she re-throws the same object. One throw is mostly just for show, or even out of habit. Two throws means she is angry for real. Three or more throws means you messed up bad and you will be punished to the fullest extent of the Ama.

Cookie enjoys the show. When Ama is visibly agitated, he stays close, handing her things to be thrown. She screams and he giggles with each thrown thing. "Ama, here's your bottle." Crash. Giggle. "Ama, here's your dolly." Crash. Giggle. "Ama, here's your apple." Crash. Giggle.

I think I might be going insane.