Thursday, January 15, 2015

Threenager.

Whoever coined the term "terrible two's" clearly hadn't parented a three-year-old.

You guys.

I need ALL THE WINE.

And after posting the above picture on social media, it's clear that I am not alone.

And that particular meltdown was because HER SLEEVES DIDN'T PULL ALL THE WAY DOWN.

I feel like I walk around the house on eggshells, in constant fear that I am going to do or say something to rock her emotional boat.  Like cutting her sandwich the wrong way, or saying the blessing too quietly, or giving her three carrots instead of four, or not turning the radio on loud enough, or putting her socks on with the seam crooked (all true stories).

When I picked her up from school on Tuesday, her teacher, unprompted, said she absolutely adored CK, stating "If only I had 12 students just like her."

Wait, huh?

Her teacher must be magical because at home, I constantly hold my breath waiting for the next meltdown, completely at the mercy of my 3-foot-tall boss who is frequently heard shouting, "I CAN DO IT BY MYSELF."

Girlfriend is so emotionally fragile, y'all.  She wants what she wants when she wants it.  And she ain't scared to tell you, or show you by throwing herself on the floor, kicking and slamming doors, screaming at the top of her lungs...

Like the other night when she refused to go to bed, throwing a two-hour-long tantrum.  T and I sat on the couch, I drank beer to keep my cool, and we listened to her yell I'M NOT TIRED while she ran up and down the hallway, throwing toys and slamming her door and crying and basically just being completely insane.  When it finally got quiet, close to 10pm, we went upstairs and girl was passed out, facedown on her bedroom floor.

I write this post because (a) I always want to keep it real... and show you what lurks beyond the whole my-life-is-perfect everyone portrays on social media; and (b) I need to vent because you guys, this is hard and I AM EXHAUSTED.

And funny enough, my exhaustion has nothing to do with the newborn living in our house.  He's got nothing on his big sister.

I am trying so hard to be firm and consistent with discipline and positive reinforcement while also choosing my battles, which is proving to be a tricky balance.  I want her to know who's boss, but I also just get so tired of all of the shenanigans.

I always heard life with a threenager was not for the faint of heart.

Whew.

I never, ever want to wish away my kids' childhood, because I love my girl to pieces and she definitely still brings us so much joy...

But honestly, if I had the option to maybe, just maybe, hire someone to take my place until sister turns 4, I'd probably consider it.

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