My daughter is fierce. She is 100 percent. When her day starts, everyones day starts. Hands down, she is the single most intense being I have ever encountered. She is pictured below in a cafe on the weekend shouting obscenities (not learned on my watch*) at the poor fellow diners.
When we are out, I seem to spend the entire time fighting fires, chasing her away from cliffs, pulling her off ledges. She seems to survive on half the amount of sleep her brother does. Aside from these qualities, she somehow has the ability to pull the only entirely pink and frilly outfit out of the wardrobe, and proceeds to break down absolutely until she can dress herself in it (heaven forbid one of us tries to dress our two year old.)
I guess we could say she is spirited, but it seems to undersell her epic tantrum capabilities a little. Her favourite place to have said tantrums being anywhere anyone with the ability to roll their eyes is within earshot.
She is Fire and Ice, Yin and Yang. She can fight her brother with a sword dressed in a swathe of tutu, lace and pink fru-fru.
Can be utterly sweet and darling one minute, and flip out completely the next.
Perhaps it’s just girls. Perhaps I was a little too comfortable with my compliant mellow wee lad?
Whatever the reason or explanation, she is completely engaging to me. I loves her, in all her demanding, loving charm.
*Dubious claim, untrue even.