I’ve heard a lot about this stage. The dreaded three-year-old. This past month, we’ve officially hit it.
To be clear, William isn’t three-years-old yet. That happens later this month. But the attitude has arrived. Big time. And I am not good at dealing with it.
Two-years-old was not my finest hour. The baby stage I can handle. Most things could be cured with food, sleep, or cuddling, maybe even a little singing. But toddlers are something else.
William and I argue about nap time, bath time, and much more ridiculous things. Does 4 or 7 comes after 3? He still swears it’s 7. What color is the sky? Definitely not blue. He got in trouble at school for arguing with his teacher about what a hat is. (He was correct, but regardless.) Logic is lost on a toddler, but for some reason, I keep trying.
My mom would say to me, “All you have to do is distract them.” She is very good at that. I did my best.
But that trick doesn’t work anymore.
Now we’re at three. It’s not just about the lack of logic. Or the inability to move their attention to something else with some shiny object.
The yelling. The crying. The tantrums. The sass.
Who is this kid??
Last night, he refused to eat his grapes. Then he’s mad I put them away. I mean pissed. He literally asked, screaming and crying, for the grape that was already in my mouth. I pulled it out to give to him, partially chewed, just to stop the ridiculousness. Yes, he ate it. Whatever.
When he’s mad at me, he tells me, “Leave me alone!” Where did he even learn that phrase?
Sometimes, I find it all really funny, and just try not to laugh at him.
Other times, I have to hand him off to dad. I’m very lucky to have a wonderful husband who is a great father, especially with toddlers. He has much more patience than I do.
A full day with him can be rather exhausting. He doesn’t like to play alone, and there are no siblings to entertain him. So it’s all day long of coloring, books, Iron Man, robots, plus plenty of me saying, “Please just eat something,” and “I don’t understand what you want!” sprinkled in there.
On the good days, it’s amazing. He’s an awesome little person, so smart and so stinking cute.
On the angry or sassy days, it’s hard. I count down the minutes to bath time, and feel like a bad mom.
We’ve just started down this road, and already I’m telling myself it won’t last forever.
But here’s the silver lining. He’s still awfully sweet. And full of love. On a daily basis he says to me, “Mommy, I love you. Mommy, I’m happy to see you.” When we go to sleep, he asks for a hug, to snuggle, and to cuddle. Again, I don’t know where he learns some phrases, but I’m glad he knows these.
I may not be good at this age. But I know I’m going to miss it when it’s gone.
What do you do to tame your threenager?
