I have a laundry load dedicated solely to pinks at my house. Sometimes two loads, depending on how many blankets Rachel decided to pee on during previous nights. Pulling out a pink lint tray is pretty darn cute. But the reality of pink rears its ugly head at our house right around the age of three.
If there were a boarding school for three-year-old girls I'd say, "Sign me up, baby." At least that way, I could guarantee that she would survive to see her fourth birthday. I've got one word to describe the age of three at our house: Regression. I get to kiss every positive personality trait I thought my child possessed out the window for at least a year thereafter. At least. In their place I experience a whole lot of screaming, whining, impulsiveness, defiance, and disobedience. Take Rachel, for instance. She's got a killer personality. Had a killer personality. Now there are so many layers of "the threes" that I don't really like her. Can I say that? I love her dearly. But I don't like her so much right now.
She sits on Eve's back when she crawls. She refuses to wear socks. Or a coat (we've been floating in the single digits for about a week now). If someone even looks at a toy that she has played with in the last 24 hours, she'll scream at them bloody murder until it's tucked safely in her arms. Her favorite phrase right now? "You're the meanest sister in the whole wide world!"
Oh, I love her. But I hate three.
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5 comments:
Amen, sister! Three is rough over here. No socks, no coat, no toileting. At least they're only three for a year!
I remember when Big Guy turned three and Ana turned three. I would extol the virtues of three and you would shake your head and tell stories. I never believed them, cause Ana was an Angel. But on the other hand, you are not given to fabrication. So I'll give it up to you. I think 3 is even better than the fabulousness that is two. But it seems to run in your family that three year old girls are your ticket into earning a place in heaven!
Oh the lovely things I get to look forward to!
Well, I am excited to have your little naughty 3-year old in Sunbeams this year!! She is darling, darling, darling....at least I hope she is each and every Sunday! :)
It's so true three is the worst! And girls are the worst:)!!! I don't know why they say terrible twos...three is way harder. Of course all my older siblings keep telling me that it actually just keeps getting harder..teens and even adults evidently are the worst kids. So I guess it never ends? At least the toilet training part ends! Merry Christmas!
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