I honestly never knew how terrible the threes would be. No one ever said, “Hey, the threes are really terrible. Grab your suit of armor, take a class in arbitration and conflict resolution, and count the days until the fours come.” But I’m here to tell you (if you aren’t already in the trenches of three-dom) that having a threenager royally suck balls. Yes, I said they suck balls.
The twos are terrible because they’re still learning language and they don’t know all of the rules. Plus they’re in the midst of potty training and usually in the middle of giving up naps. Add in molars too. I would be a two-year old jerk too.
But the threes? Jeez. They can communicate, they are better sleepers, they aren’t teething and they’re usually done with potty training. What in the world then is so bad?
Let me count the ways.
Every morning starts out furiously happy for my threenager, at least for the first 22 seconds until he makes it to the kitchen for breakfast. At that time, we are walking on eggshells not knowing what may set him off. It’s pretty much a given that any of the three things below may turn him into a seething ogre:
- The cup he wants is not clean
- He doesn’t get the chair he wants
- The dog licks him
Once we get past the above things, the rest of the day is just a variety of BIG emotions. Sometimes those emotions are good, but unfortunately most of the day is wrought with bizarre, bad, destructive, weird, demanding, disagreeable, gross, and just over-the-top behavior.
Just in the last few weeks, my son has had a long list of award-winning threenager behavior:
- Called his brother’s teacher a blockhead
- Threw a floatie at his swim teacher
- Squirted a water gun at another mom’s face (in her eyes)
- Licked the slide at Chik Fil-A (more than once in a single trip)
- Touched the inside of trash can at the park
- Picked his booger and showed it to me while I was driving
- Stuck his hands down his pants and waved to me (and others)
- Hit another child in the head with a pool toy
As you can imagine, I find myself apologizing to others on his behalf quite a bit. Sometimes I want to pre-apologize when we get somewhere because I’m almost certain something is going to happen. “I’m sorry for what he’s going to do because he’s three” is what I feel like saying.
I’m sure I will look back on all of this and laugh, but while I’m in the trenches all I can do is put on my big girl panties and hold on for the ride.
The countdown to FOUR is on: