We’ve all commiserated before about how the “Terrible Twos” seem to be an illusion compared to the “Want To Punch Myself In the Face Threes.” Nikki’s age 2 was a baby penguin compared to her at age 3. Wes seems to be following the same pattern lately. His variation of this wonderful phase is to suddenly start doing things he KNOWS are wrong. Like playing with rolls of toilet paper creating the world’s softest disaster zone. OR CLIMBING ON GLASS TABLES. He’s been blatantly breaking rules that he’s been obeying for years. And it’s making me insane.
This week he colored on the floor at school during naptime. How he ended up with a crayon at naptime, I can only imagine. I guess it involved sneaking it into a pocket after centers to be used at a later…more evil time. Either way, I had to have a long, nagging talk with him about this thing he did that he KNEW WAS WRONG.
I told him I wanted him to apologize to his teacher when he got to school Tuesday morning. I told him he needed to never do that again because he is old enough to know better. I did the whole, “If you want big boy privileges like watching Power Rangers and taking the car out with your friends…then you have to act like a big boy by following the rules you already know.” And then we hugged and cuddled a bit.
Donnie called me yesterday after drop-off and said, “I am so proud of Wesley!” Considering most of our conversations lately about Wes have revolved around deciding who is going to clean up the mess his actions left behind, this was a nice surprise. Turns out? Wes walked into his classroom, without a reminder from Donnie, and went directly to his teacher and apologized for coloring on the floor. So, not only did he remember what I asked him to do, but he actually did it without prompting.
So…age 3 can be summed up like this: Your child will put you one step towards WE ARE NEVER HAVING ANY MORE CHILDREN and then turn around and do something that makes you say, “MORE! I want more perfect little angels!” Of course, you don’t find yourself lingering there long before you put on your shoes on, only to slice your foot on the Captain American figurine crammed inside…but it’s still enough of a relief to keep you from locking them up in the dog crate for a year.