Fantastic Fours

Well Max turned four and I thought it was going to be fantastic fours. Is there a saying of fours? I will say holy cow. All of a sudden his voice is loud, angry, mean, and there's foot stomping. Umm, no. Where's the fantasticness?  He got a bike that he loves and would live on it if we let him. He hasn't had a chance to ride it in two days because he's behavior has been that word that's associated with the twos.  I know for 5 days it was all about his birthday, there was loads of fun, Pap-pap and Mum-mum were here, Daddy came home early from work early. I feel for him, but if he's giving me a preview of him as a teenager. Yikes! All he needs to do is stomp up the stairs and slam his door.  Emma, don't watch and don't get any ideas. 

Oh, you thought Emma has been a lovely ball of fun while Max has been the opposite. Not so my friends. Emma is teething, and we all know how I feel about teething. It's a B!@#*. All capital letters. She is a hot mess of runny nose, tears...oh the tears, and scream crying.  Her tantrums are pretty darn perfect and she could teach a class on them. Tantrums 101 by Emma coming this Fall. Be on the look out. 

August, I am over you.  

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