She said it!

I've been waiting for this a long, long time. About an hour ago I was scuffling around on the floor with my daughter, tickling and giggling and hugging and making silly noises. I grabbed her in a big cuddle, with lots of kisses, and said, "I love you!"

She finally answered. "I yuv you."

Sweet, sweet sounds.

The irony in all of this? Now I am ready to wring her beautiful little neck. Dr. Jekyll has instantaneously morphed into Mr. Hyde in front of my eyes. This sweet girl is now screaming this horrible "I-am-officially-in-the-terrible-twos" kind of scream, she's blatantly disobeying and knows it (offering us a cute little smile and giggle, thinking it will pacify us), she's trying to climb up the ladder to their new bunk bed (knowing full well that's off limits to her) and thrashes her strong little body when we take her down. Those words I had longed to hear have been wiped away with one quick swoop as my blood pressure rises. Her screams are predictable, and the sound grates on my nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. Being a parent is truly the most complex job on the planet, with emotions simultaneously including sheer love and intense dislike -- a combination that is absolutely impossible yet completely expected. I guess God feels this way too -- loving us completely, desiring to hear those longed-for words, "I yuv you," but feeling that same slap in the face when in that same breath we scream our little lungs out because we're not getting our way. Multiplied by 5,000. Interesting.

Now she's standing on top of the overturned laundry basket, wearing the sweetest little pink gingham seersucker dress, with a big watermelon collar across her neckline, eating raisins out of a cup. Yes, no matter what, "I yuv you too," baby Grace.