Cheers!
Tonight you stayed up an hour past your normal bedtime. Because, of course, it's New Year's Eve. I don't think you would have lasted any longer. Your eyes were drooping as I was reading you stories. Happily sated by our fun evening together -- watching "Bee Movie" and noshing on popcorn, followed by crab cheese, rice and chicken at Seoul Garden.
At the end of each year, I know your next birthday is just around the corner. March comes quickly, that's for sure. You'll be four in a couple of months. So hard to believe! Three has been filled with adventure and a bit of strife too. We were warned, though. Never believe the term Terrible Twos. I swear two was a piece of cake.
Honestly, three has been mostly great fun. But just last week I swear we were living with the Tasmanian Devil. Screaming, hitting, biting, spitting, not listening to most requests, arguing with the rest. The Friday before last, you and Mommy had our most difficult day together ever. Both of us lost our tempers and got too emotional. It was hard. This following the week where Erin put you on your own personalized schedule at daycare to try to help you get through some of your troubles there.
I think, basically, you're just trying to adjust to all of the stuff you're learning and wanting to do. You can be so darn smart sometimes! The things you say and the logic you use to noodle through things almost blows me away. But your body won't always let you do what you want. And your parents too. So obstacles come up and your frustrations get the best of you. Believe me, I can relate!
My response was to run to the bookstore and find experts who could help. (Three books worth. Because no one "expert" can have all the answers, right?) We were getting absolutely nowhere with our methods so I've been trying to learn more about how preschool minds work. I still have a lot to learn, I can assure you.
So we weathered a few very difficult days before prepping for our Christmas adventure at Grandma's house. And then, on Christmas Eve, calm seemed to settle over all of us. You were calm. I was calm. Daddy was calm. And, magically, it's remained that way for an entire week.
Sure, you still argue and you still resist, but not with the ferocity you were before. You understand that sometimes the parents need to stand firm. That we let you have many privileges, but that we also have to draw the line in some instances. You're still pokey getting out the door and you'll still whine that, "I never get to watch any TV!" (Ha! That always gets a laugh out of me!) But, hey, you're a kid. And, um, I still whine and I'm 40.
I don't want or expect you to be perfect. So I'm happy enough to have a few hearty debates. I'm just glad they're not accompanied by the spitting and the aiming of your finger at me accompanied by shooting sounds. I much prefer the pouty faces and stomping of feet to the former. I was worried for a while there that I'd lost my happy-most-of-the-time little buddy. It's good to know that he was just hiding out for a bit.
