The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad THREES

If asked if I have enjoyed my children at all their stages and ages of life, I will tell you I did and do. But if I am pressed, I will admit that I loathe what I have now dubbed as the "terrible threes."

Yes, I know. It's supposed to be the terrible twos, isn't it? The twos gets all the hype, all the fear, and probably its very own chapter in most parenting manuals. But for me, it's not the twos. We SAIL through the twos. And just when we breath a sigh of relief, certain we have survived the stage that is billed as one of the worst for the toddler/preschool set, then comes the third birthday.

My sweet, charming little two year old morphs before my eyes into a whining, defiant, mean spirited three year old. He whines from sunrise to sunset. He refuses to do anything he is told. He may even put his little hands on his hips, glare at you after a nice ol' eye roll and say something akin to "I'm not going to argue with you mom, but I am still NOT GOING TO GO TO THE POTTY." (Um, yes - are you three or thirteen?) He throws some spectacular tantrums. He will be put in time outs again and again and again until, he just really doesn't care. He forgets how to share. He choses the opposite of anything and everything you want him to do. And most of all, he must do everything, absolutely everything himself - with no help or assistance from anyone, unless of course - it's something you have asked him to do.

I remember the dawn of three as a challenging time for me as a parent to Aidan. We adjusted and slowly, eventually, three got better until we rejoiced in the arrival of four. But now, Brennan has turned three. My easy, happy go lucky boy who always rolls with the punches has, overnight, jumped head first into the terrible threes. I miss my sweet two year old. The three year old wipes me out. I try to remember it's temporary. Still, I end most days defeated, hoping and praying for the patience to make it to four.

I know it is a child's job to test their parents and the limits we set for them. But sometimes, I wish they didn't do their job so frustratingly well.