So, it’s happened.  The terrible, dreaded twos.  My little girl has gone from an easing going, sweet little love bug, to a somewhat schizophrenic tornado.  I’d say it happened right around her two year old birthday.  We saw our first tantrum.  The real deal kind.  Kicking and screaming and pounding on the ground like she was reenacting a terrible movie she saw on tv.  Well, unless Flor is secretly letting her watch Mommy Dearest, I am pretty sure she didn’t see this on Olivia or Wonder Pets.  My friends keep telling me Gigi’s behavior is normal, which is definitely reassuring.  I’ve asked some preschool teacher friends just to make extra sure.  They all agree. This is the life of a two year old.  You don’t know what might set them off, and blamo, Thermo Nuclear War.  It actually can be pretty funny.  Ev and I definitely have had some great moments using humor to diffuse the most recent catastrophe of oh, let’s say, a chair being moved slightly to the left instead of the right.  Or perhaps she didn’t get to open the car door by herself, manifesting in a fit the size of which no single person romping around the south of Spain (man, I miss those days) could ever imagine would soon be their life.  Fortunately, I’ve gotten some great advice that has truly helped, but man, this shiz is cray. z.  Is this little angel going to go through this too? Say it isn’t so!