No one understands!
Mommy doesn’t get it.
Daddy doesn’t get it.
That lady at the store that says, “That smile looks like trouble.” Yeah, she certainly doesn’t get it.
I know I’m cute. I’ve got this “to die-for” curly mane. My big brown eyes, I get it, you could eat them up.
But seriously, people. You don’t understand a thing!
Telling me I need to go to the bathroom is not how it works. I will go to the bathroom, when I feel like it. It won’t be when I’m playing. It won’t be when I’m eating. It certainly won’t be before we need to get in the car! And no, it doesn’t bother me to walk around with my pants wet. So get over it already!
Asking me to eat my lunch when it is steaming hot is just plain mean. I don’t care if you stir it or blow on it, it is still too hot. I also don’t care if you let it sit out on the table for half an hour, or even the whole day. It is still too hot, so I won’t eat it. End of story.
Buying crayons and markers and not allowing me to color wherever I please is ridiculous. Why buy them in the first place? You always hang my brothers pictures from school on the fridge. I’m just trying to get a little recognition.
Don’t offer to help me zip my coat, or buckle my seatbelt, or put on my shoes- EVER! These things I can do ALL. BY. MYSELF! Seriously! And if I can’t do them by myself it is entirely your fault for sitting there and not helping me.
Putting me in time out because I am not using my words is a pretty risky move. I will hit the door. I will throw things. I will stomp my feet and scream louder. If you couldn’t understand me the first time I started to get angry, then what makes you think sitting me on the timeout rug will help me clear my head? It is your fault you can’t understand me. I am screaming or crying or grunting for a reason, and you should know what that reason is!
So, until I forget why I am mad in the first place, this stand off will continue!
Being three is hard!
Your Three-Year-Old Son whom you love to the moon and back… trust me, you do!