We’ve escaped it so long, I may have even scoffed and called it a myth and now it’s here. My darling little Jacky bear, at 31 months has finally been struck by the terrible 2’s.

The last couple of weeks rather than my usual happy little fella and our occassional disagreements, I have been met with tantrums over things I didn’t think were worth tantruming about. Case in point, he decided he wanted a lolly, no problem except we had none. Offered him that days advent calendar chocolate, refused. A banana? Refused. Complete meltdown. Throw himself on the floor, kicking his legs meltdown. Just like the movies. 15 minutes he inexplicably stopped and happily sat and ate the banana that had previously reduced him to hysterics. WTF??

The trying times continue daily, every request becomes a battleground, the task of gently drawing the line in the sand and deciding which battles to fight and which to give in is becoming huge.

But just as I was about to pack MY bags or pull my hair out, at 3am this morning I woke to find a sleeping little boy all snuggled in my arms. And I unpacked my bags. Surely a little feisty is worth it for these snuggles? Or for that smile:

So until the next day of tantrums, he will remain my cuddly little angel.