The semi-year bitch.
I have been enlightened this week and felt the need to share. You see, just about two months ago (though it feels like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it all go so damn fast these days?), you may remember me complaining about Little D’s out of sorts behavior. A temper wasn’t a temper without a tantrum. And that tantrum seemed to last for hours, then days on end.
I took refuge in a popular West LA mommies’ chat room, and of all the “it’ll pass/maybe she’s teething/she needs more sleep” advice, one response caught my eye – it’s the 6-month mark.
Or as I like to call it, the “semi-year bitch”.
Apparently there is something that triggers right around the halfway point each year (i.e. 18 months, 30 months, etc.) when suddenly visions of birth control are dancing through your head on an hourly, instead of daily, basis. A friend whose daughter is a full year older than Little D concurred – three and a half? Way more hellish than the terrible two’s ever were.
Sadly, have no solution to offer. No resolution that makes me feel better. Simply a warning to all you fellow mamas who may be approaching the “semi-year bitch” any time soon – she’s even worse than the Hollywood publicists I come across each day.