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…