When I got pregnant with my second son in 2006, I had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to be a handful. I swear on a stack of bibles that the kid never slept -- even in the womb. So it was no surprise when I popped him out and he exerted his will on the world: Only Mom would do and, well, sleeping is for suckers.
It was with great glee that I finally got the child to sleep through the night when he was one. It was good, because I was thisclose to losing my mind (I only appear to be joking about that) and landing in the psych hospital. Chronic sleep deprivation is a bitch.
So it's really no surprise that my kid remains, at 4 years old, one of the most stubborn, willful people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.
It's going to be something that treats him well, later in life, but for now, I'm about three steps from pulling my hair out and running away to Detroit.
Two dreaded words: Potty Training.