Our little Spitfire

Madeleine didn't seem to have Terrible Twos. She had a working vocabulary of over 2 dozen words by her first birthday, for one. She's also a calm, easygoing, kind-of-shy child, which means while she doesn't mind going out in public she doesn't want everyone's attention while she's there. It's always been easy and pleasant to take her just about anywhere.

The Boy isn't too different from that. Despite his speech difficulties (perhaps because of them), he's quite cooperative and patient. If you can't convey what you want, you kind of get resigned to liking what you get.

But Rachel? She got all the Irish. You know the old line, "You can always tell an Irishman, you just can't tell him much"? That's what we have here. By the boatload.

Last week at our first visit to the homeschool moms' Bible study, we did the Stations of the Cross with the kids. Maddie's goal was to show off her reading ability by reading aloud; Dale was patiently paying attention from a 9-year-old's lap. He was easily the smallest boy there.

What was Rachel doing? Telling me in no uncertain terms that she was going upstairs to play Polly Pocket. Loudly, and she didn't care that she'd be alone.

When I stood with a determined sigh to retrieve her from the foot of the stairs, another mom grinned and winked at me. Just a quick wink, but it helped.

Yesterday at the dentist when it was time to go, she wanted to put her own jacket on. Several unsuccessful tries with a hand through one sleeve or the other led to frustration but a bullheaded refusal of help. "NO! I do it!" The next patient asked, "Is she two?"

The dentist told her of me, "She's got more patience than God. She homeschools them, too."

I realized, just like pride goeth before a fall, I lose my sense of humor shortly before my temper. If I can still smile--just smile, because outright laughter sometimes is asking too much--I'll make it through. When another mom, by her tiny gesture lets me know "We've all been there and lived to tell the tale," I can smile. If I can still see the comedic value of a two-year-old trying to put on a jacket, and the absence of dire consequences for her failure, we'll be okay.

Laughter is the best medicine, after all, right?