Like the Weather

I’ve been meaning to write about the delightful stage of three years old. I’ve composed the post in my mind a few times, just never near a keyboard. I want to remember this lovely, tractible boy who is still baby enough to be all innocence and light.

I was thumbing through Your Three Year Old: Friend or Enemy by Ames and Ilg. I first heard of this series of books from AskMoxie. Even though they are seventies-riffic (All mommies are at home. All daddies are the authority figures.), I’ve yet to read anything else that gives me as clear a window into what my kids are going through developmentally. I particularly appreciate that there aren’t varied and complicated recommendations. Often all I need to know is “why.” I definitely don’t need to feel like I’m doing it wrong. I kind of love that the thrust of the 3-year-old book seems to be that: Three is awesome. Three-and-a-half is kind of terrible. Definitely get a babysitter as much as possible for three-and-a-half. Have you tried preschool? Just get that kid out of your hair.

So maybe two weeks ago I was reading aloud to Damon the part where it says that it doesn’t even have much to say about the first half of three, as those kids are generally so agreeable and fun. We marveled. We appreciated that was the case, and we talked about what a pleasure our little Alden is.

I know you saw this coming. Boom! Before I could write about three, we hit the developmental phase of 3.5. I can only assume that’s what happened. Or Alden has just plain lost his mind. The “Don’t look at me!”s are flying. Even the slappy hands are flying occassionally, and we haven’t seen those in months. He likes to wake me up at 5am to be mad at me. Oh my god he is trying my patience. Face washing is an affront. Serving him dinner is an attack. You get the picture.

I remind myself of the wise advice I read somewhere or other, that children need your compassion the most when they seem to deserve it the least. Likely true of adults as well, but they’re on their own.

Advertisement

One response to this post.

  1. This is kind of terrifying. And yet, also nifty.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: