Category: terrible threes

children, mommyhood, terrible threes

Believe Me

WFAM

Little T.Puzzle woke up this morning with one foot planted on the road to a peaceful, four year old-like existence, and one foot firmly entrenched in the terrible threes. Just like his Mommy, he is not a happy camper first thing in the morning. Of course Full Speed takes after Mad Dog. He pops out of bed, puffs his chest out and flexes his arms (ok, Mad Dog doesn’t do that, he simply enjoys the first light of a day in a positive way I will never understand).

Everything I asked of little T.Puzzle was shot down with a blunt refusal, a cross of his arms and a bad, bad attitude. Of course Mr. Happy Full Speed has to throw his two cents in about the subject.

“Mom, T.Puzzle is just being contrary,” he states. “That’s why he’s not listening.”

In our house the word contrary and children go together like pepperoni and pizza.

“Full Speed, leave your brother alone. You know he doesn’t like mornings and you used to be just as contrary when you were his age (and then some),” I reply.

He looks me dead in the eye and says, “No, I wasn’t.”

Oh really? Who are you going to believe?

Full Speed flexes as the boys return to the car from \’helping\’ Mad Dog grocery shop.
children, parenting, terrible threes

The Truth

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We were at brunch and as awful as this sounds, I was happy that little T.Puzzle was annoying the heck out of Mad Dog. Not because Mad Dog was annoyed but it validated the short fuse I’ve had with T.Puzzle for the past several days. Lately I’ve been feeling ready to lose it over any minor infraction of his. So maybe it isn’t all me. Maybe lots of it has to do with him and his recent behavior set.

Mad Dog’s patience was clearly being tested. It started with little T.Puzzle launching a purposeful flick of white milk across our table. Then he deliberately thumbed a hole in the side of his cup. This allowed a pool of milk to collect in the center of our table. To top off this double display of insolence, as Mad Dog was trying to discipline him, little T.Puzzle  kicked him. Mad Dog kept his cool and threatened consequences in hushed tones just as the waitress came to check in on our table. She notes the damaged cup and says she will replace it. Mad Dog says that yes it was broken and a replacement would be great.

This is the moment that little T.Puzzle decides to repent. “I’m sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry!” He says it in such a pitiful way that in the eyes of the waitress he is a sweet, gentle soul asking for forgiveness over his ‘accidental’ broken cup. It also appears that we are mad at him for ‘accidentally’ breaking his cup and that is why Mad Dog is talking to him so harshly. The waitress and her sympathy are almost palpable.

Mad Dog and I both roll our eyes.

I say, “Trust us, he’s all game. You didn’t see the five minutes (or the attempted kick) leading up to this moment. He appears a lot more sweet than he actually is.”

Believe me, the truth hurts.

mommyhood, terrible threes

You Must Be Lion to Me

WFAM

I took little T.Puzzle to Applebee’s after his physical. He had to be checked over by the pediatrician for his upcoming eye exam under anesthesia. He got the all clear.

I listed his choices for him for lunch: hot dog, grilled cheese, chicken tenders, mac ‘n’ cheese, and a cheeseburger. He stated his choice clearly and made his mind up quickly, “Mac ‘n’ cheese,” he said.

Great.

When the mac ‘n’ cheese arrived he took one look at it and said, “I not eat it. I not like mac ‘n’ cheese.” He then proceeded to climb around the booth and table as if it were a jungle gym and repeatedly roared at me like an angry lion.

Really? Well guess what? I not like the mercurial tastes of a three year old.

All I could do was box up his lunch even though I would have preferred to put him in the box instead.

children, mommyhood, terrible threes

Options

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My friend who reads my blog regularly (thank you, thank you) came over for lunch. She is raising boys as well and while hers are much older, she has much wisdom to dispel on the subject. Of course I am all ears. I implemented some of her suggestions with varying degrees of success. The first one was to simply tell Full Speed my expectation and to do so only once. If he complied then he would be rewarded, if not then no reward.

When we arrived at school I told him that I wanted him to say ‘good morning, ma’am’ to the school’s receptionist. Oftentimes he is running about talking silly and he doesn’t address her properly. I told him this once and he didn’t do it. I didn’t make a big deal but later that day I told him that meant he didn’t earn a privilege he had wanted. The next day it clicked for him and every day since. He stops in front of the reception area and greets her with respect. So, there’s my progress.

My friend’s other suggestion concerning my constant power struggle to get little T.Puzzle’s shoes on before we head out the door, was to put his shoes on while he is watching his morning cartoon. That way he is distracted and the shoes are on when I shut down the tv and it is time for us to leave.

I put the show on, grabbed the shoes and with great care and stealth tried to slip on his shoes. In the instant he saw me and the shoes he gets up screaming from the couch and runs away to hide.

My friend never once suggested that I be the one to run away and hide, but I’m telling you, on the days that start with tantrums, ‘I nots!’, and general defiance, it doesn’t seem like a half-bad option.

I’ll keep listening, learning and trying different things. Eventually something will click or we will have to move to a place where it is culturally acceptable be barefoot.

children, mommyhood, terrible threes

Game Time

WFAM

All I wanted to do was go for a simple bike ride.

First, it started with this:

Little T.Puzzle refused to put his shoes on, proceeded to run away from me repeatedly and seemed to be having a dandy of a time in doing so.

After 15 minutes of threatening, pretending to leave without him and chasing him all over creation it came down to this:

Hey, at least ol’ Mom’s still got game because I eventually had enough speed to catch the little stinker.

And, how was your day?