I am Three Again, and I Don’t Like it One Bit!

I love other people's three-year-olds.

Mine, I'm ready to sell to the gypsies. Just kidding.

Kind of.

This post is a public attempt at learning from my current and intense frustration with my skills as a mother of a strong-willed, too-smart-for-his-Elmo-undies, newly baby-talking, and utterly contrary three-year-old son. I have lost my perspective, and I'm hoping it's only temporarily misplaced, because I am now engaging with him as a fellow three-year-old, and I know this can't be a good idea.

There are layers of learning here, and in the end, I'm sure it will all boil down to acceptance and surrender, because that's what always seems to be left for me when the rest has evaporated.

But first, may I vent? Just a little? I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't. I'll limit it to my top three annoyances.

Baby-talk

This boy who was speaking at one, and who can tell complete stories that can actually be understood by strangers is now using lispy baby-talk as his primary mode of communication. Here I think I'm sending him to preschool as the youngest in his class to challenge him and expose him to other kids he can learn from, and he comes back emulating someone's baby-talk. Ugh!

I made the mistake of letting him know it bugs me. Now he doesn't buy my fake nonchalance and talks like this all the time. Asking him to use his big-boy voice has no effect.

Contrariness

I know it's his job to be contrary at this age. He's learning to exercise his power and will. I used to say this to other parents as a way of offering a comforting perspective; to depersonalize the behavior a bit. I now know how annoying this is. It doesn't help me one bit to know this.

Everything is a battle these days. Mainly, the battles surround those things he ultimately has control over: eating and voiding. (Since letting go of his naps, the sleeping isn't an issue anymore.) He wants snacks instead of meals; he wants banana bread all day long and throws a screaming fit when I don't give it to him; he looks at what's for dinner and then walks away if he doesn't like it. "Fine! Don't eat then!" my inner three-year-old snaps at him.

One recent way of showing his contrariness has been to deliberately poop and pee in his pants - while we're home with a readily available bathroom. After a few rounds of this, my husband resorted to threatening to take away his guitar and stereo privileges if he made that choice again. The "accidents" stopped. They weren't accidents.

I've resorted to carrying him, kicking and screaming, into his room for time-outs when he starts in with one of his tantrums. I can't even handle time-ins right now.

I offer him reasonable ways of exercising his budding power, but it seems it's not enough for him. I worry that he won't be satisfied until he has reached world domination.

Clinginess

Lucas (in high-pitched, whiny baby-talk): Will you go to da bafwoom wif me?

Me: What? You know how to go by yourself.

Lucas: But I want your attention.

Me: You've had my full attention all morning! We just finished doing puzzles, reading books, and coloring. Can you just do this one thing by yourself, please?

Lucas: No! (favorite word) I want you to go with me! (Now commanding) Go with me, Mommy!

For crying out loud! The more attention I give him, it seems, the more he wants. What happened to the independence of the twos?

Since I told you I'd limit it to three things, I guess that's it for the venting. On to the learning.

Oh – except the colds! I have to add one more thing! The colds! He's been mildly sick six times in the last eight weeks, throwing a giant, frustrating wrench into any semblance of routine I might be trying to uphold. How do I maintain consistency in the midst of a constant barrage of cancellations and exceptions due to illness? How do people manage with more than one child, assuming they don't all get sick at the same time? I have no more sympathy left. The coughing and the runny noses are only further irritants in a swirling mass of annoyance.

Back to the learning …

The best way for me to get to the learning is to examine what I'm feeling. First, I feel angry at Lucas for not being who I want him to be. That's the honest truth, even if it's not the most enlightened thing to say. While I'm in this kind of victim mode, I want to tell him, "You were lucky enough to get an awesome mom and I'm doing everything in my power to do right by you, and here you are throwing it in my face with this ridiculous behavior. I don't deserve this. I deserve a brilliant, peaceful, delightful child who is a joy to be with, AND … you should be healthy what with the three organic, home-cooked meals I make for you every day, and your healthy, organic, low-in-sugar, dairy-free snacks, and your stress-free lifestyle. What is up with your immune system anyway?!"

So who's the ridiculous one? Yes, it's me. Writing this out is helping me see this all clearly for what it is: ridiculous and unreasonable expectations.

I also feel angry at myself for not being the mom I want to be. The self-talk goes kind of like this: I should know how to handle this better. I should not be getting angry. I should be more patient, more resourceful, more creative, more understanding. I should be preparing only healing Ayurvedic foods for Lucas so he can have balanced Pitta.* After a four-day retreat away from my family, I should not want to immediately run away again for about a month.

Should, should, should. Again … ridiculous and unreasonable expectations. (And really, who doesn't wish for a month's vacation free of family responsibilities? Okay, so I might not last more than two weeks. Three, tops.)

What else do I feel? I feel alone and a bit confused. I'm not really sure where to turn for advice, since my approach to parenting has already veered well away from any sort of mainstream philosophies. I want someone, maybe the Super Nanny, to give me the answer, and yet I don't trust the methodology that will probably be suggested. I have a feeling I already have the answers I need to handle this better, but I'm just not able to access them right now.


Do I re-examine every boundary and chuck the ones that are borderline unnecessary? Do I say yes more often, right from the get-go? "Sure, you can have nothing but cheerios and apple juice all day."


Or, do I create more boundaries? More routines? Maybe Monday is turkey sandwich day for lunch and it's always turkey sandwich day on Monday and therefore, there will be no further expectations of anything other than turkey sandwiches on Mondays. That kind of thing? It sounds a bit insane to plan things out to that degree, but Waldorf has been very effective with this sort of daily and weekly rhythm.

I suppose a bit more time and perspective will help me tap into the inspiration I need to get to the answers that are just right for us. That, and some meditations that aren't interrupted by a million intruding thoughts like they have been lately. From that perspective, it's no surprise that I'm feeling so out of whack.

Finally, I feel really, really humbled – which I think is a good thing. I know that if I'm to effectively help and support other parents, I have to keep growing, as a parent and as a person. That means that by necessity, it's NOT going to be easy all the time. I have to come up against these challenges in order to deeply wrestle with what I believe and what is actually working on a practical level as I raise my son.

In summary, the learning turned out to be about acceptance and surrender, after all; Accepting what is, instead of pushing for what should be; Accepting that I'm not perfect and Lucas isn't perfect, and that's just the way it is with everyone; Surrendering expectations; Surrendering my ego, so that I can grow and learn. I think this awareness will help me to be less reactive and more thoughtful. Already, I feel a shift for the better.

And so, in this openness, I invite you to share your thoughts and suggestions. And if you can recommend a good boarding preschool … kidding, kidding.

Cheers!

Alexis

*I just started checking into Ayurvedic cooking in the last couple of weeks. It looks way too complicated, but if I took the time to learn it, I'm sure we'd all be pictures of glowing health. Or not. Who knows?