When my birthday comes and goes, I really don't notice much of a change. I look in the mirror perhaps a little longer in the morning and identify the increase in wrinkles on my face but I don't seem to notice any major changes.
When my children have birthdays, the exact opposite happens. In fact, it seems as if everything changes on a birthday. For instance, this child right here. He turned two a couple of weeks ago and it is as if a major transformation has occurred. When he speaks, we can now generally understand what he is saying (for the most part) and he is starting to get a grasp on the lost art of communication known as whining.
Oh, does he know how to whine and it is as if it happened overnight. All of my friends with two-year-olds swear this is just the age, but I swear I am going to die if I have to listen to it for hours on end. The funny thing is, he'll get that milk he wants if he just asks for it nicely. Why he has chosen to hit that exact tone that makes you want to poke your ears out with a stick, I'll never know. My new tactic is refusing all requests until the whine disappears. Sometimes it works. Sometimes I realize he comes by his tenacity honestly. There we sit at a deadlock, over milk. It doesn't make me feel exactly mature sometimes but it does keep me from reinforcing the behavior that drives me insane.
It's just a stage, right? I'm sure I'm not STILL whiny at my old age. Oh, dear. Maybe I need to get some earplugs.