Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Being Three

I love my children. They are smart and funny and kind and have made my world a better place. Their sweet smiling faces, the way they giggle with each other, the sound of their gentle breathing while they sleep all bring a warmth to my heart that is indescribable. So why is it that they can also drive me nuttier than a squirrel at a coconut convention?

It's a strange experience to love someone so immensely and at the same time want to box them up and ship them off to some remote town in the Himalayas. But truly, I have no one to blame but myself. I knowingly and wantingly brought 3 amazing, but all be it insane, little people into this world. And now I must sleep in the over-crowded, toy-strewn, jelly-stained bed I made.

Currently, it is my three year old who is giving my maternal instincts a kick in the pants. Whoever came up with the term "terrible twos" clearly had their children sent far, far away before said children reached the true terror that is three. My days are filled with "No!", "I wanna do it!", "It's my turn!", "Do it now!" and my personal favourite, "You loose, Stinky Pete!” If I had a quarter for every time my 3 year old gleefully looked me right in the eye as he found a new way to cause my lips to purse in frustration I'd be on a first name basis with my local Starbucks barista (or bartender). It isn’t until you’ve tried to reason with a three year old that you truly come to understand the complexity and subjectivity of truth. It’s almost a philosophical experience when you think about it; almost. Where else outside the halls of academia does one truly get the opportunity to examine the fabric of reality, perception and truth? Was that bite of apple I just had truly his bite? How do I know that the apple is still as good as it was prior to the bite? Isn’t the esthetic reality of an apple lessened by its lack of wholeness? And am I really a poopy-head mommy?

I've read the articles and books that all assure me that this is all perfectly normal, a development stage, a step in the direction of self reliance and discovering his place in the world. I've gone through this once before with my now 5 year old, so I am aware that there will come a time when we are no longer at the mercy of the whims of a logic-impaired Spider-Man-lover with a Napoleon complex. But, oh lordy!


Anonymous said...

well, I figure if 30 is the new 20, then 3 must be the new 2, right?


Midlife Traveller said...

I so hear you with the Terrible Two thing. Two was a cakewalk; three is insane!

anna said...

Oh lordy is right! So this WILL pass?