We found the "terrrible twos" with M to be just that, terrible. But three years old, that was just utterly traumatic. The tragic threes. So when O cruised through babyhood and in to toddlerhood, I wasn't afraid. He is sweet and funny and laughed much more often than he cried. I thought we might even be lucky enough to just have a crazy climbing kid, one who (quite often) throws heavy objects at unprepared kids and adults. Not so good but not so bad, either.
Then... it happened. The tiny two year old flung himself to the ground a couple of days ago and let rip with an almighty tantruam. Game on! He's still going, three days later. Tiny, terrible twos. Gulp.