The "terrible twos". That is what it has always been called. I suggest renaming it to the "terrible nineteen month olds"...at least that is what it is being called in my house. It is funny, because whenever we are in public for as long as I remember people always say "what a happy baby, is he always that happy?" and my standard response is "most of the time, but he has his moments". As if for some reason I would feel badly for letting them down and telling them that Levi is just like every other child his age dealing with frustration and a struggle for independence and the outlet for those confusing emotions are screaming, throwing himself on the floor, hitting, biting (that is a new one) and throwing things. Some days this struggle is very hard for me. It usually depends on the day, the amount of sleep I had the night before, and whether or not I take it too personally. One night in tears after I put Levi to bed for the night that is what my loving husband said to me after I gave him the play-by-play of the "terrible" day I had. Too personally. At the time I was in disbelief-how could I not take it personally that the child I had longed for, cried for, prayed for and then was blessed with had suddenly taken to hitting me when he was tired, frustrated or bored. Me! His mommy. You know the one who carried him for nine months, breast fed him, changes his diapers, kisses his bumps & bruises, and sings his blues away~I am the person he was hitting of course I would take it personally. But, then I realized my husband was right (as usual:) and that the best way for me to weather this phase is for me not to take it personally at all. So now I am going to try to take it all in stride, pick my battles, praise his good behavior more often, and enjoy every moment with him regardless if they are "terrible" or not.