You know when you have a one year old and everybody tells you about the impending “terrible twos?” And then you survive two and wonder what the big deal with two was because three was OhMyGodWhoIsThisKidAndWhereIsMyBaby? (I know I’m not alone here).
And then three passes and four comes along and they are growing up and changing again yet again (Attitude, drama, knowing everything…don’t tell me this is only my kids, we’ve done this rodeo twice now).
Each new phase is always harder than the last. Especially the first time around. You have no idea where this new phase came from or what it will entail. And, in this moment, the last phase? The one you survived? Sure seems like a cake walk.