Oh, isn’t she sweet?
I hate to admit it, but this adorable 3-year-old is the boss of me. Most days, these sweet smiles are few and far between. From the moment this thirty-five pound tyrant wakes up, she orders me to help her get her breakfast. Then, after she gobbles that down, she orders me to color with her. I usually tell her, “Mommy needs coffee first,” which is the honest to God truth. My body aches for some reason, and I just want a few moments to enjoy my Folgers before the little one needs to nurse again and the demands for the day start. So, after I inhale my one cup of half caff, I sit on the floor and color with her (with the crayons she gives me. I am not allowed to just take any color I wish, or she has a major meltdown.) After a few minutes of coloring and the onset of feeling somewhat awake, I hear, “Mommy, I have to poo,” which means Mommy has to wipe her butt because she despises the smell of her own doody. After that morning joy, I sit back down to finish my coloring masterpiece, then the baby starts to fuss because she’s hungry. So, I get all nice and comfy on the couch and at the precise time I nurse her sister, the 3-year-old decides she wants to go outside at 8:00 a.m. in her underwear to play. When I tell her she needs to put clothes on, she tells me her cami and underwear are clothes. Before I can make it upstairs to get a pair of shorts, she is already in the backyard. I tell myself its 8:00 a.m. and we have a privacy fence — who will see her? After a half hour or so of her playing outside and just when I am trying to get the baby down for her morning nap, the older one runs in and starts whining how hungry she is. “What do you want?” I ask. “A popsicle,” she cries.
I had always heard about the “terrible two’s” but there isn’t much you hear about the three’s, except for the term, “threenager” and this is exactly what she is ( a teenager in a 3-year-old body.) She is defiant, demanding, whiney, and hungry all the time! And, did I mention how loud she is? I love her, she is so gosh darn smart and beautiful… but she drives me cray cray.
I think back to when she was a baby and even then her cry was loud like a hyena. In utero, I knew she was strong. I just felt it. Little did I know that strength would include her vocal chords. But the loudness, whining, and demanding isn’t the only thing. She has oodles and oodles of energy. Nothing seems to tire her out, except when it is time to clean up the toys, I usually get, “Mommy, my back hurts.” I can’t imagine having a sore back from playing all day?! So after ten minutes of asking her to pick up the toys, I end up doing the bulk of it. Unless she is in a somewhat good mood and does it herself and then orders me to leave her Barbies alone because she is still playing with them. I don’t argue because I know she will play with them again the next day, and my energy is low. And God forbid I move them after she goes to bed… I’ve learned to avoid unnecessary tantrums at 6:30 a.m. because a toy is not in its place. Some might think this is bad parenting; however, I have learned her temperament doesn’t do well with force and anger. Would I really want to add fire to fire? I think not. If the simple “let me help you clean up the toys” doesn’t work then I usually resort to, “I guess we’ll have to take them away.” One of those usually does the trick. Of course, I normally know which method to try as there are days when she skips her nap and by evening hours she is a frickin’ hurricane!
Draining as it is ( and it is draining), I hope she stays this way. Because I pity the pour soul that messes with her or breaks her heart. After all, she is a Capricorn. They are known to be the most determined in the zodiac; they tend to be leaders and workaholics. I remind myself the personality she has now will grow and hopefully flourish into exactly just what she needs to conquer this crazy world.
For now, I will take deep breaths (repeatedly) and remind myself that one day this little pistol will be a strong, focused, and determined woman.