First off, I'm so sorry I went M.I.A the last few weeks. Life has a funny way of getting in the way… Well, I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. It was by far the hardest to write. Don't forget to read and review! Thanks!

14 August 2008

Dear Roxy,

I can honestly say I can't wait until your third birthday.

It's been almost two months now and I can hardly stand another second of you and your terrible two's. Rox darling, I love you, but lately you've been driving your mum and I up the wall. And we thought Fred was bad…

I've never heard of or seen any toddler with a bigger temper tantrum than you. Its like every single little thing sets you off. Our home is a constant warzone now. Out of all the words we taught you how to say, it seems your favorite is NO.

I capitalize that word because it isn't whispered or said, but rather screamed and repeated over and over again. Like last Tuesday for example…

"George, you know I have guests coming over. Could you do me a favor and help me clean up a bit?"

Ange asks as she comes down the stairs into the family room. I'm sitting on the couch reading the paper while Rox plays with her blocks.

"Yeah, what needs to be cleaned?" I ask from behind the paper.

"Um, have you seen this room?" She puts her hands on her hips and smirks.

I put the paper down on the coffee table. "Alright, alright." The timer in the kitchen dings.

"Oh, my pie's done!" Ange smiles. "Thanks," She walks over and kisses me on the cheek before walking to the kitchen.

I look at you, building a tower out of the blocks. How adorable. I walk over to you and crouch down to your level.

"Rox, You need to start putting your toys away before mummy's friends come over." I say.

You look at me, as if you are trying to put together an appropriate response.

"No," you say and continue to tower your blocks

"Roxy. I'm gonna ask you one more time. Please put your toys away." I say

"No," you repeat.

I just sat there for a moment, trying to figure out my next move. Then, I started to put your blocks away for you.

"NO DADA, MINE!" You yell.

I stand back up. "Fine, if you wanna be like that," I say under my breath.

I proceed to clean the rest of the living room. Now the only thing left to pick up is Roxy's blocks.

"Roxy, I'm serious this time, Put. The. Blocks. Away." I say as sternly as I can.

"BUT I NO WANNA!" You yell back.

"Roxanne Alicia Weasley!" I scold

I realized I made the wrong move just a tad bit late. Your bottom lip begins to quiver and then you break into your signature temper tantrum. And let me be the first to tell you, they aren't pretty. A good 15 minutes pass before your mother decides to intervene.

"George! Do something before she wakes Fred up from his nap!" she says.

"Ange, I don't know what to do! The only way to make her stop is if I give in, and you told me not to give in to her tantrum!" I yell, completely exhausted and confused.

"Must I do everything, George?" She gives me a dirty look as she picks you up and takes off up stairs.

I feel an argument coming on soon…

...Last Tuesday was a really bad day for all of us.

And when I say that, I mean me.

I can't wait until we can get passed this terrible two's stage. I'm completely sick of all this defiance. (Wow, those are words I'd never thought I'd ever say…) It's like we never talk anymore, and when we do it's always the same conversation:

Roxy, put your toys away.

NO.

Roxanne, it's time for bed.

NO.

Annie, you need to eat your peas.

NO.

Hold your mum's hand, Rox.

NO.

It's driving everyone insane.

Roxanne, in the name of everything that is good and holy in this world, turn three!

Hopefully there's such thing as terrific three's,

Dad