My precious, darling daughter is exhibiting some minor (and by minor, I mean MAJOR) signs of a temper. Not sure when she decided that the smiling 24/7 thing wasn't gonna cut it for her deck of personality traits. We were quite fine with happy versions 101 & 102.
Recently, when we don't give her something that she wants - like my cell phone or the TV remote - she balls up BOTH fists, shakes them and bears down with this scowl on her face and screams. Go ahead, check the address of this blog, check the sender of the email, call and ask me if I'm mistaken or just simply crazy. Cue the denials from the grandparents. But the answer is yes, I'm talking about one Miss Madeline Emerson McCormack, the happiest, easiest baby on the block and her recent development of a temper.
Now, as to where she got the temper trait, I have no idea. None. I can't speak for Mike, but easy going and level headed-ness have always been some of my better qualities.
(I'll pause here and allow those of you who just spewed coffee all over your screen to go get a papertowel to clean yourself up)
Where ever it came from - it's here. One straight-up alive and well, fist shaking, red-faced, screaming temper has arrived and reared it's ugly head this week. We are currently working on returning it to it's rightful owner.
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