Three's a Breeze

Just kidding. It's not.

It's the complete opposite.

Three is a fr*cking roller coaster. Just when you think you're over the "worst part" you discover a new developmental twist that takes you on another set of bumpy tracks. I'm beginning to think that there's no such thing as getting off this ride.

Anyhoo, I love my kid, and when she's fun, she is indescribably awesome. I'm often blown away by her giggles and hilarious stories and the interesting connections that she's making between her learning. She has a fantastic sense of humour and loves to laugh and make us laugh. The way that she plays is fascinating, and we often just sit back and watch her narrate her imaginings or run back and forth across the room conjuring new worlds and scenarios in her mind's eye. We always look forward to having adventures with her because every experience, even ones she has had a million times before, end up feeling brand new to her and to us; she keeps observing and internalizing new things. As her vocabulary expands, so too does the sophistication of her ideas and the creativity of her expression. We are constantly surprised by her, and we really just find her a joy and a light in our lives.

That is, when she is a joy. There's also the Hyde-side that sometimes emerges, and that side is volatile and impatient and finicky and all sorts of dramatic. When some random thing doesn't happen the way Little L was expecting things to go, the tears appear instantaneously. Her voice has already mastered that perfectly annoying whining tone, and as her speaking skills improve, her ability to tell you exactly what you did wrong is also refined. And don't forget about those big feelings - the ones that she experiences to the very depth of her 3-year-old soul - when I dare call her a "care bear" when she is momentarily self-identifying as a "monkey." Plus all of those moments when she wants to be independent, which happen to never coincide with the times when I want her to try things on her own. Little L is also prone to manipulating her wussy parents with charismatic charm one moment, and melodramatic angst the next. And did I mention her mean streak (which she gets from both Hubbs and I)?

Examples:

Soap Opera Actress LL: I can't watch Care Bears because I'm sad! Mommy, make me feel better because I'm sad! I have tears in my eyes and my face is wet. I have to go back to bed and have nye-nye to feel better. Please Mommy take me back to bed so I can feel better and so I can watch Care Bears again!!

Charming LL: (randomly proclaimed like a dictator) Today, after Daddy is done work, we are all going on a donut/chocolate float/random sweet treat date! *dazzling smile* 

Helpless LL: I can't do this myself! I'm only a little girl! Mommy please help me ______! Mommy (insert command to do random thing in angry voice)!

Independent LL: No! *I* want to do it, not YOU. I want to do it all by myself. I want Mommy to go away! I'm not a Toots, I'm a monkey, so I can do it myself!*

(*Currently, in Little L vernacular, a "Toots" is a young child or baby, and a monkey is a preschooler or big girl or boy)

Ragey Mean Little L: I want to kick ________ in the face! I want to hit _______!! 

(Thankfully these feelings are usually directed at fictional characters or stuffies, although on occasion when she's feeling really mad, I have no doubt that she wants to kick or smack us a good one).

I'm not sure who thought the 2's were the worst because I can definitely attest to the 3's being a zillion times more trying. Everything is intensified, whether it is the fun and silly moments or the deeply emo ones. My MIL shared with me that for her, the 3's were also tougher, and I have heard from several people that the 4's are much better (dear God, please let it be better). 

Until then, you can find me deep breathing through the rough and ugly, and self-medicating after bedtime with sugar and social media (because I don't drink wine and Fruli beer is not readily available in my fridge).