And then other days I think to myself, 'wow - my son is 3 as 3 as 3 can be' 3 with all the trimmings. 3 with the power to throw one of the most torrential tantrums. Worst part is, I never even know how it happens.
He had a great day today and was excited right before dinner when we opened his latest package from Yaya and papa. It had a sticker from HEB (only the best grocery store ever) and some new jammies...what could be better?
Not chicken, I can tell you that. Chicken isn't better than a sticker and cars jammies because the moment he noticed chicken was on the grill for dinner he began one of his best tantrums to date.
It started with not wanting chicken. Then turned into not wanting his planes plate. Then it turned into wanting his planes plate. Not that wretched toy story plate. And it just kept going.
An hour after it started I find myself sitting here while he eats. Chicken, I should add. Chicken on his toy story plate that he didn't want. An HOUR.
I'm giving myself a few pats on the back as I think Austin and I probably handled this better than any tantrum to date. But, riddle me this: if we handled it better, why was he so, so, so much worse?
Ah. I got it. Cause he's a three year old with the brain and reasoning skills and stubbornness and determination of a 4 year old.It gets better at 4 right? I really thought it already was getting better. About an hour and 10 minutes ago I would have sworn so.
Parenting: it's not for wusses.
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