Poised on the verge

Well, seems we’re set pretty well on the whole Almost-Three thing.

Butter has composed his own song and sings it loudly in all scenarios: backseat, library, market, backyard.

“Bob the not builder
Can we not fix it?
No, we can’t.”

For all those who haven’t had a three-year-old, that song is the epigraph to your instruction manual, a book in which the pages are stuffed with only coping mechanisms and a benediction that if you make it through you’re clearly one of the Chosen.

My dear Two-and-Three-Quarters has further decided that “no” and “yes” are for two-year-olds and now answers questions either “Poopy Yes” or “Poopy No.”

To everyone. See above references to public places and relatively staid audiences.

Yes, I’d say we’re doing pretty well on the “are you ready to be Three” checklist. Now I just need some sign from him that he’s aware of the importance of this new phase.

Could the signal I’m waiting for be that he threw a massive fit today because he wanted more sandwich? Probably, since the second half of the sandwich was in his hand during all the writhing and keening. And when I told him to that he had sandwich in his hand and isn’t that silly, and told me, “But Mommy, when you say ‘no,’ I say ‘yes.’”

And there it is.

See you some time in the summer of 2014 when I come up for air…

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10 thoughts on “Poised on the verge

  1. Ah, the poopey years. I think that should have it’s own separate stage, like terrible twos. I think it is their first major realization at true cause and effect and they certainly seem delighted about it…because poopey always is followed by peals of laughter as they eyeball you, waiting for the reaction. Then they progress to non-challant and they just utter poopey this, poopey that like it’s a standard adjective. Instead of red crayon it’s poopey crayon. Although they don’t look at you for a response, they really are still secretly eye balling you via the their ear or the back of their head…they know you can hear them…they know they’ve gotten to you.

    Of course the more you try to dissuade them from using the word, the more they do it. We’ll see you next spring! ;)

    • You’re exactly right.
      And the first few appearances of poopy were when I was frustrated or angry with him. He’d make a sweet smirk and say poopy to distract me. I saw right through it, except…except that poopy is hilarious. And as a defense mechanism of the cutest kid ever it’s even funnier.

      So there have been times we both get stress relief by looking out the window on a grouchy morning and laughing together as we name everything outside poopy. “Poopy bus! Poopy leaves! Poopy mommy’s car!”

      I’m guessing poopy will last until high school…

  2. Summer of 2014 sounds about right… My first born started the Terrible Twos at 18 months and discarded them around age four. It was a long 30 months. Uh-huh.

    I will add, however, that this was offset by my younger son, who never went through the Terrible Twos at all – at least – not in any noticeable fashion until he hit the teen years which resemble the toddler years in many ways with the addition of new body aromas and facial hair.

    See? All good. Really.

  3. Oh how I don’t miss having a 3 year old. Although I’m beginning to think that having a 6 year old is really just a 3YO multiplied only not just by double. He is a screaming howler monkey these days when he doesn’t get his way. I’m anxiously counting down the days to his 7th birthday with the hopes that a portion of his sanity returns with the birthday!!! My best to you as you reenter the world of a 3YO!!!

    • Ah, the howler monkey half years.

      Six seems easier to me because mine has enough words, a journal for feelings (moat of which seem to be four-lettered and beginning with F), and good friends at school without soblongs. All that seems to spell better ability to curb the howler monkey within. Mostly.

      Good luck with Seven. Hope it’s everything and more of what people say about the 7-9 honeymoon. ;-)

    • It’s terribly wrong how cute I think the poopy thing is right now. You’re right that it gets old. When Six and friends go to diaper/poopy/butt talk I want to pull my ears off.

      I have myself good and terrified about Three, so maybe it’ll be easier this time?

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