The twins are going to be 3-years-old here very soon.
Age three…the worst age in childhood. A glimpse into things to come.
The “screw-you” threes.
The “bring you to your knees” threes.
Different terminology, same meaning.
Three year old are difficult as hell. They are total and complete haters basically hating everything that they come into contact with, except Peppa Pig and cheese sticks. They are bound and determined to make you hear all about their shit list over…and over…and over again. With the twins exhibiting “three-nager” behaviors” I can’t help but remember moving through this stage with the older girls. All of those memories that I had repressed have started to resurface and remind me of why I hate this stage so badly.
It really is such a guilty feeling. When your child enters this bitch of a stage you feel frustrated and angry at someone you love so dearly, someone who was a wee babe a mere few months ago. Your baby is no longer a baby…they are now the official Mayor of Haterville.
Three year olds hate your happiness.
It is the cold, hard truth. All of the sudden you will be driving along, singing your favorite tune when your three year old starts screaming from their car seat, “STOP SINGING MOMMY!” They are wretched. You are ruining their world by happily belting out a tune. Sometimes you will catch yourself smiling or giggling at the silly things they say. Three year olds say some adorable things no doubt. Their faces will turn to stone and they will look you dead in the eye. “Don’t laugh mom.” Don’t sing, don’t laugh, don’t smile woman. No signs of happiness for you.
Three year olds hate cleanliness.
It infuriates them actually. Go ahead and try to wipe the food, dirt and snot off of a three year old’s face. They will crumple and twist into the loudest ball of agony that you have ever witnessed. If you try and pick up their toys in the playroom, the three year old will charge into the room like an angry speeding bullet dumping out every bin of toys out that they can find. Hair brushing, teeth brushing, nail clipping; all highly offensive to the three year old.
Three year olds hate the word no.
It is their Kryptonite. Tell a three year old no and just watch their tiny world implode. You can almost feel their suffering and agony when you deny them a second package of fruit snacks. The three year old will ask for some whack shit too and telling your three year old no is an occurrence that happens about ten thousand times a day. You can’t get around it since they ask for the craziest and most unimaginable things ever. When your three year old begs you to let them play with the kitchen knives you have to say no. They do not care if you are keeping them alive, you have uttered the worst word ever and now you will feel their wrath.
Three year olds hate clothing.
What happened here? All of the sudden socks are the devil, boots are “broken,” shirts come flying off at random and three year olds streak through the house bare bottomed. Life has become one giant toddler frat party. SPRING BREAK BITCHES! Yes. Life with a three year old is very similar to spring break or a giant frat party, expect way less fun and much more sober.
Don’t get me wrong though, this age certainly has it’s perks. I am sure it does…the thing is since I have two three year olds hating on me all day long I can’t actually remember what those perks are. Get back at me when the twins are thirteen and I bet you I will recall these days with the most rose colored glasses in all the land.