A few weeks ago, my husband and I took our son for his very first visit to the dentist.  I was bracing myself for complete and utter disaster; protest, tears, uncooperativeness, utter mayhem.  I was certain that the scary mask, the loud tools and the bright light would be too much for my sensitive three-year-old to handle. So when the visit went off without a hitch and involved lots of smiles, giggles dentist_logan2and a fluoride treatment to boot, I was in utter shock!

So….I am proud to say that I survived the “terrible twos” that everyone seems to rant and rave about.  To be perfectly honest, the twos weren’t so terrible after all; a few short-lived tantrums here and there, a handful of embarrassing moments at the mall, a little sprinkle of defiance.  But nothing outrageous. Nothing as heinous or gory as I expected.  I have to say, I spent most of my son’s second year waiting for impending doom, thinking, any day now, I’ll be living with the kid from the exorcist.  But it just didn’t happen. I thought to myself, how lucky am I to have gotten away scot-free, avoiding that dreadful, bratty phase that makes you want to gauge your eyes out.