Ricky hurriedly walked in the kitchen door of the Juergens' house and froze at the sight before him. Near the kitchen table Amy was currently starring at their two year old with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. John was staring back with his arms crossed, his brows furrowed and his lips puckered in a pout. There was a small plastic cup on the floor sitting in the middle of a puddle of spilled juice with a coloring book lying next to it, also in the juice puddle. A few feet away from the puddle was a broken dinner plate, the remains of a dinner mixed among the shards. Ricky had called Amy a few minutes ago intending to discuss spring break plans with her when he'd heard Amy's exasperated shout of 'JOHN!'. Amy had abruptly ended the call and Ricky had rushed over, thinking John might have just hurt himself. What he didn't anticipate was to find Amy and their son having a staring death match. He cleared his throat.

"Um…" Amy quickly glanced at him and then back at their son.

"John Nathaniel Juergens, when I say that it's not playtime that means that you STOP playing around young man! And you DO NOT throw things when you don't get your way!" she told John, her voice and body language making it clear that she was livid.

"Put I wanna play wight now!" John declared, raising his voice slightly to get his voice across.

"DO NOT raise your voice at me young man! You need to use your polite voice when you talk to me, or daddy, or auntie, or your grandmas and grandpas! Do you understand?" John broke eye contact to stare down at his toes and nodded. A moment later his little face crumbled and his bottom lip began to quiver.

"I just wanted to pway some more, mommy." He sniffled and wiped his sleeve across his face to dry his wet cheeks. "I sorry." Amy's resolve crumbled as she was suddenly overcome with mental fatigue as she replayed her week thus far.

John's second birthday had occurred Sunday night. Her family, Ricky, Nora, Margaret, Shakur, Griffin, Madison, Lauren, Jesse, Justin, and Grace had all gone over to Margaret and Shakur's to celebrate. John had a mini mountain of gifts and Anne baked him a little cake that resembled a fire truck, his current favorite type of truck because of all its 'neat lights and tings', according to John. John had been on cloud nine being the center of attention and getting so many presents. Ricky had kept a comforting arm around Amy most of the night as she was so emotional about her baby being two years old. The evening had passed pleasantly and then everyone went their separate ways and then to bed. It was shortly after John woke up the next morning that the terrible twos set in, in a big way.

Monday morning John decided that he didn't like any of Amy's decisions concerning his person. She spent fifteen minutes arguing and wrestling with him as she tried to dress him. He refused to wear the first three outfits she picked out and when she finally decided to let him pick out his clothes for the day, he refused to put them on, which led to the wrestling match as Amy had to hold him down to dress him. As she fixed him oatmeal for breakfast he refused to eat it, demanding that he wanted pancakes instead. When Amy told him that it was too late for pancakes because he took too long to get dressed, he threw a fit, flailing around and beating his feet against his brand new booster seat, knocking over his oatmeal and juice cup in the process. Amy had scolded him and put him in time out, which caused him to dissolve into tears and get up from his timeout seat to hug Amy's legs, saying he was sorry and wanted her to hug him. When she obliged John settled down and behaved like his usual cheerful, pleasant self for the rest of the day.

Tuesday morning went much more smoothly, allowing Amy to get out of the house without a meltdown, but John had a busy morning at the nursery. A short while after Amy dropped him off, John got into a shoving match with a little boy who had taken a little plastic tugboat John had been playing with. When the little boy refused to give it back John shoved him. The little boy got up and shoved him back and the two boys wrestled their way into a building block tower two little girls were building. The crashing of the blocks alerted Jennifer and Naomi and the boys were placed in time out. During morning snack time John decided he'd rather not sit at the table with the other kids in his group and carried his snack over to the window so he could look outside as he ate his fruit slices and drank his milk. A little girl saw John leave the table with his food and tattled to Jennifer. Jennifer made John rejoin the group at the table to finish his snack and John glared at the little tattletale. When their snack was finished it was time to go over their colors and color on the worksheets that accompanied their brief lesson. John purposefully sat next to the little girl and then hogged all the crayons so she couldn't have any. The little girl raised her hand to tattle on John again and he shoved her out of her chair. Even though he didn't shove her hard and she wasn't hurt, the little girl began to cry. When Naomi came over the little girl pointed at John and told her what happened. John glared at the little girl.

"Tattletale," he said with a pout. Another little boy at their table gasped and looked at the little girl.

"Tattletale, tattletale," he said in a sing-song voice. Two more kids joined in before Naomi got them all to quiet down. Naomi put John in time out, again, but then made it a point to keep John and the little girl separated for the rest of the day, which surprisingly did the trick.

Wednesday wasn't quite as active but was still interesting nonetheless. When Amy came home that evening she was on the phone with Madison, discussing getting together that weekend to review for their trig test. She thought she set her purse far enough on the counter for it to be stable but she hadn't and it fell to the floor, spilling its contents. Amy set John down and proceeded to put everything back inside it, still on the phone with Madison. Her task completed, Amy stood up and set her purse safely on the counter and glanced beside her for John as she ended her call. She panicked for a moment when she didn't see him and didn't hear him making any noises.

"John!?" she had called out.

"Yes, mommy?" he had replied. Amy followed the sound of his voice and found him just around the corner from the kitchen in the dining room. She paused when she took in the scene. John was standing there with his hands behind his back, a blank look on his face, which made Amy suspicious.

"What were you doing, John?" He rocked on the balls of his feet as he looked at her.

"Nothin'," he said innocently, which meant he had definitely been doing something.

"What's behind your back, John?" John had stopped rocking and switched to swiveling his torso back and forth.

"Nothin'," he said innocently again. Amy arched an eyebrow.

"John, don't lie to me. Tell mommy what you have behind your back and what you were doing." John had stuck out his bottom lip and stared at the floor. He bent his left leg and began swiveling his toes back and forth as though he were absentmindedly digging a toe into the sand.

"It a surpwise." Now Amy was curious as well.

"A surprise for who?"

"For you," John replied, not looking up. Amy inwardly sighed.

"John, show mommy what you were doing." John stilled for a moment and then took a small step the side. Behind him on her mother's dining room wall was a smiley face, drawn in ink. Amy put her left hand over her eyes and sighed. John looked up with confusion.

"Don't you like it mommy?" Amy looked at her son's worried face and lowered herself to her knees so she was eye level with him.

"It's very nice, John. But from now on only draw on paper that mommy gives you and not grandma's walls, okay?"

"Okay." Amy put her hand out.

"Give mommy the pen." John handed it over. "Where'd you get this from?"

"Your purse. It was on the floor." Amy sighed as she nodded. Apparently she hadn't picked up everything that had fallen out of her purse. Thankfully Anne was more amused than upset by John's impromptu need to artistically express himself, much to Amy's relief.

Thursday Amy was lulled into a false sense of security as John behaved himself that morning, all day at the nursery, and during Amy's shift. It wasn't until dinner time that John again decided he wanted to do things his own way. Amy had texted her mom to let her know there was an accident that had backed up traffic on her way home and she'd be late. Anne had saved them plates and left them warming in the oven. When Amy finally got home, she put John in his booster seat and retrieved their dinners from the oven. John began playing with his food and Amy told him to stop and eat it. The second time she spoke in a firm voice and arched an eyebrow as she told John that if he didn't stop then she would take the plate away and he could go to bed with an empty tummy. That was when Ricky had called her. She answered her phone just as John crossed his arms and kicked out, his feet kicking the surface of the table and knocking over his juice cup. Amy had shouted out in frustration and ended the call. She reached over and removed John's plate from in front of him and he tossed his little plastic fork at her, his brows furrowed as he glared at her. Amy had promptly picked John up and removed him from the table before he knocked anything else over or threw something else. John had pulled away and reached up to the table to Amy's plate and swiped his arm to knock it off the table.

"NOT FAIR!" he yelled at Amy, his eyes and voice angry. When Amy lunged to grab a hold of him John scurried under the table to avoid her and then came out on the other side, intent on throwing something else. The first thing he could find happened to be one of his coloring books. When he tossed it in Amy's general direction it landed in the puddle of his spilled juice and Amy had actually growled at her defiant two-year old. So help me if this little boy doesn't get his act together I'm gonna scream! She simply starred at John, feeling very heated as she slowly counted backwards from ten to keep from yelling at her son. On one level she knew John was simply acting out because he was growing up but on another, Amy knew that she had to nip the habit of acting out when he didn't get his way right now. She had just reached zero when Ricky's voice interrupted her thoughts.

Ricky wasn't sure what to do. Amy had kept him up to date so far that week on John's terrible twos but this was the first time he'd seen the aftermath of John's recent behavior. Hearing quiet, George and Anne came downstairs to inspect the damage and found Amy hugging a sniffling John, a weary expression on her face, and Ricky standing in the back doorway, an uncertain expression on his. Amy and Ricky both turned to look at George and Anne when they entered the kitchen. George gave them an empathetic smile.

"There'll be good days and bad ones," he informed them with a shake of his head. "You just gotta ride it out and remember they love you." George headed towards the kitchen sink and wet the dishtowel to begin sopping up the spilled juice. Amy gave him a grateful expression.

"We got this," Anne informed her, heading to the pantry to retrieve the broom and dustpan. She inclined her head towards the stairs. "Go on." Amy and Ricky headed upstairs to get John ready for bed. John was very cooperative, and very quiet, as Amy and Ricky bathed him, dressed him and brushed his teeth. That night Amy sat on John's bed with him in her lap as Ricky sat next to them and read John his bedtime story. They kissed him goodnight and tucked him in. Amy sighed as she closed the bedroom door and then put her arms around Ricky's waist and promptly burst into tears. Ricky hugged her briefly and then led her to her bedroom so they could sit on her bed.

"What happened to my sweet baby boy?" she sobbed. "It's like someone flipped a switch and suddenly I don't recognize him all the time." Ricky cradled Amy's head in the crook of his neck and rubbed her arm soothingly.

"He's still out sweet, little boy, Amy. He's just growing up." Amy sniffled and wiped at her cheeks before pulling back slightly so she could sit up straighter.

"He's only two, Ricky! Why's he gotta be so defiant sometimes?" Ricky chuckled, causing Amy to glare at him.

"Amy, remember how excited he was the first time he used his potty and we flushed it down the toilet?" Amy nodded. "He was so excited to be a big boy and not a baby anymore, right?" Again Amy nodded. "He wants to do more things himself, and do them his way. We just gotta find a way to balance out letting him be more independent with keeping him safe from things he's still too little to do on his own."

"And how the heck are we supposed to do that?" she asked hotly as fresh tears began to fall. Her face crumbled a little as she continued speaking. "He's only two, Ricky. He's still so little. How much independence do you give a two year old exactly?" Her eyes pleaded with him for an answer and he looked at her with sadness in his eyes.

"I don't know, Amy. I'm new to this too." He pulled her against him again. "We just gotta figure it out as we go I guess." Amy softly cried into his neck. I know he's gotta grow up eventually but he's only two. Why'd he gotta start changing now? Will I ever get my baby back? Ricky stared off into space as he tried to sort through his own thoughts about John growing up. I know kids test the boundaries as they grow up but Amy's got a point: why's the pushing gotta start so young? It's not like John can't do some things for himself but how do you know when your kid's ready to do certain things on his own? And how one earth do I keep his mother from having an emotional breakdown in the process?