Undefeated

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We’ve hit that stage. The terrible twos are here {though our Izzy will be three in just a few months}. Tantrums are now part of our everyday.
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Yes, that’s right. My sweet angel throws tantrums.
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And they can happen at any time of any day over any thing… typical in toddlerdom, I guess.
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I thought I’d get some shots of Izzy in the owl hat that my twin sister gave to him last Spring. I wasn’t sure if it would fit him by the time winter came, and I almost didn’t have a chance to find out, as it sat hidden in a little cubby hole until I came across it last Monday. Sure enough, it still fits. It is a bit snug, but it’s a stretchy knit, so still comfortably. I decided to get my camera and attempt to get some shots to send to my sister as well as just for my own keeping and delight.
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Smiling for the camera in an owl hat was just not happening. It’s plain to see, he was not going to have any of it. Instead of a smile, I got pouting and cries of frustration. Maybe it’s heartless of me to say so, but I adore these type of shots every bit as much as the ones where he is smiling and content to be in front of the camera. {Although, I have to say, it was wearing the hat that he had issues with… more so than it was over having his picture taken. But, likely, it was some combination of both.}
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I delight in documenting even these moments throughout this stage of his life—where everything that does not fit perfectly within his toddler world causes major disruption and upset—especially if he is wearing the sweetest knit owl cap while it does. Whining suddenly goes from intolerable to endearing when you put a cute little hat on it.
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Still, it was not his cup of tea. Most things these days that aren’t his version of ideal usually produce or end up in defiant fits on the floor. But this particular episode just brought out the most sighful {I think I made that word up} frustration I’ve ever seen him display. He truly seemed helpless and weary under my persistent pleas for him to sit still and look at the camera for a good photo.
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It wasn’t until I pulled up this next photo to view it larger on my monitor that I noticed {and laughed at} the irony found in what his pajama top says…
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…for undefeated he was not.
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But only for a moment. The hat came off, the camera was put back in its bag, and my sweet boy found his way into my arms to triumphantly smile, laugh and play once again.
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And then our day was put right and all good again.
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Until the next time it wasn’t.
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