Then there are moments, in the middle of the night, or on a Friday afternoon, when he suddenly gets really sick or throws a tantrum, that I feel like I am not meant for any more kids.
Having a toddler in the house is kind of like teaching...we have to always have patience, be ready for the unexpected, and know how to discipline for the given situation. However, having a toddler is a little more extreme. For instance, C can get mad over the most ridiculous things. He might want to open the door to the house, and if either of us touch that door handle, he flips. "Charwey do it!" On the other hand, he can be the sweetest, most thoughtful little human being. When he sees my glasses have fallen on the floor, and they are in his path, he stops whatever he's doing to bring them to me safely. When he notices trash on the floor, he picks it up, makes sure I approve, and throws it away.
Back and forth we go--every day, every hour, sometimes every few minutes.
It's a juxtaposition of emotions, but it's definitely worth it.
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