A Confession. . . . I have a confession to make: I don't much like two- and three-year-old children. Never have, really. They're ok to babysit once in a while, but anything beyond a few hours and I look to escape. They're loud, rude, smelly and sticky. They still believe they are the center of the universe, and they scream if anyone gets in their way. They ask a million questions a day. I like kids of all other ages, but there's something about this particular age group that just doesn't sit well with me. So what's the big deal? Lots of people don't like the pre-school set and avoid them at all costs. The problem is that I have an almost-three-year-old daughter. And at the moment, she embodies all of the qualities I don't like in that age. She's loud, rude, smelly and very sticky. She's prone to temper tantrums if she doesn't get her way, which is often. She asks why more times in a day than I can count. She takes toys away from her sister. When I try to discipline her, she just laughs at me and runs away. I've resorted to tapping her hand and spanks on her diapered bottom, things I swore I'd never, ever, ever do to my child. There are days when my jaw aches from clenching my teeth in frustration. She's driving me to drink. I've been struggling with how to reconcile my dislike of this stage with my all-encompassing love of her. I love Ella with every fiber of my being. I sit at night and watch her sleep and my heart aches with joy that I was so blessed to have her in my life. Yet I dread her getting up in the morning because I know it means another day of struggles and frustration. When she's at her worst, I have to remind myself that I chose to have a child. My husband and I made a conscious decision to become parents. I did this to myself and have no one to blame but me, although I do often blame my husband. There are times, many, many of them each day, where she is amazingly sweet and funny and loving. She adores her little sister, even if she does steal her toys. She greets each day with, "The sun is up! Time to wake up!" How can you argue with someone who is so excited about a new day. She tells me stories from school and sings me songs. She gets toys for her sister to play with and gives her unprompted hugs. She tells me she loves me and gives hugs and kisses. And she likes to cuddle while we read books. But then the next moment she's off in the other room climbing furniture and leaping off. Or she's coloring on the walls. Or she's picking apart a windowsill that has some wood rot. I've found it's harder to remember the good parts of each day and easier to focus on the hard ones. I grump to my husband about how bad she's been during the day, but I forget to talk about the funny, wonderful things she's done. So I wonder if this difficult stage is a result of her behavior or my attitude. Is it tough because I expect her to be loud, rude, smelly and sticky? Am I more prone to see her actions in a negative light? Or is it because this really is a tough stage, and she's every bit as challenging as I perceive her to be. I haven't decided yet. So I resolve each day to start fresh, to be patient and understanding, to not lose my tempter. I'm afraid I'm not always very successful. In the end, I know I'll survive this stage and she'll move on to another. I just hope I can refrain from selling her to the gypsies before she does.