Remember when I said I wanted time to slow down? How I wanted to bask in the fun-loving glow that is a toddler? Oh, I was so naive.
I was the epitome of a first-time mother, laughing off comments like, "It's not the 'Terrible Twos' anymore, wait until you have a 'Threenager.'" Ha! I thought. I have such a smart, well-adjusted kid who talks about her feelings and takes deep, calming breaths when she is upset. Ha! Not my kid.
Little did I know, three-year old's become little monsters, disguised as adorable children about 70% of the time (lately, I feel like it's more 50/50). One minute, she is helping me around the house and coloring and proclaiming, "I love you, Mama!" The next, she is screaming and kicking and growling and scurrying from room to room, proclaiming, "You make me sad! You ruined my life!"
The other day, we were visiting my mother-in-law, who is a nurse, and after some demonic behavior turned into giggles and smiles (the result of learning to deal with her frustration by punching a pillow), we turned and asked her, in all seriousness, if our child was manic. She simply smiled and replied, "She's three."
If counting down the days until the age of three is over, I don't wanna be right.