Before I begin this blog in which I will inevitably paint myself as some sort of hard-hearted psychopath who doesn't deserve the love of her little cherubs, I will get the disclaimers out of the way.
1. I love my daughter. As in, "I adore, would throw myself under a bus to save her life, am often found staring in absolute awe of her perfection" love her.
2. I do have another child, who is not ignored. He is a quiet, self conscious, introspective little man who I also adore.
3. I do not love one child more than the other. Although I do like Sam a lot more at the this point in their lives. Mainly because he doesn't make me consider drinking during the day quite as often as Annie does, and rarely throws apples at my head because they are the wrong colour.
4. This blog is in no way intended to give advice or instruction on the raising of a toddler... because I have no idea. The fact that she is my second child makes this a little sad because my first child was seemingly a freak of nature and NEVER had a tantrum... ever. I know.
5. I am bound to make grammatical errors. The commas won't always be in the right place. I know this makes some people very cross. I am sorry.
6. I swear quite a bit. I really enjoy it. Again, sorry.
7. I love my daughter. Despite the spectacularly unreasonable, unpredictable, bad tempered, kicking, screaming, frothing at the mouth unpleasantness that is her toddlerness (yep, made that word up), she is my darling girl.
P.S. Here is a bruise on my knee that I acquired yesterday when I fell through the baby gate and face planted the kitchen floor. I was attempting to storm in as she had squeezed an entire tube of paw paw ointment onto the couch. Instead she burst into tears at the sight of me on the floor clutching my knee and so we ended up cuddling on the paw paw couch as I comforted her. Annie:1, Tanya: 0.