For the past year, any of my friends with kids older than mine have had a word of warning about three-year-olds: “Terrible twos? Three is definitely a harder age than two.”
I believed them but secretly hoped that they were wrong about my daughter. In some ways, three is way better than two. The other night as I made dinner, Emma very sweetly single-handedly taught her baby sister to give high fives. I don’t think she would have had the patience to do that a few months ago. Recently, she’s started to put on her own shoes…that takes at least thirty valuable seconds off of our current ninety-minute routine to get out of the house. I’m all for that kind of progress.
However, the more time I spend with my three-year-old and talk to other moms of three-year-olds, the more I realize that three is the age of testing. My Emma is testing boundaries, testing what happens when she cries for an hour over something that seems small to me, testing how many decisions she gets to make in our family and how many will be made for her. There are certainly days when I feel like we are on an emotional roller coaster, complete with the thrilling highs (new discoveries like how to climb in her own car seat and ultra-sweet moments like running open-armed to give us warm hugs) and the stomach-dropping lows (fits over not wanting to leave her car seat for the house or sadness over not wanting to share her toys.) For the most part, she is a thoughtful, obedient little girl, but like any child, she wants to know where the boundaries are and how firmly they will stand. For her, this is a year of exploration and growth. For me, it can be pretty exhausting.
As she is questioning, I am questioning myself and my parenting decisions. I stay calm and wonder if I’m being firm enough. I get sterner and wonder if she still feels unconditionally loved. This parenting thing is a whole lot easier as a Monday morning quarterback. I knew what to do before I had my own three-year-old: stay calm but firm, consistent yet loving, give choices but let them know you’re ultimately in charge. There are days I feel like all is well, and then there are hours I hope and pray that my mistakes as a parent can just be overshadowed by positive memories and all-encompassing love. I know that I must follow through on what I say, give her opportunities to make her own mistakes and learn from them, and discipline from a calm and loving place. I also know that like any phase, this, too, shall pass, and I’d rather she learns some boundaries now than when she’s bigger and wrong decisions are more costly. When I think of it like that, I am grateful to have this year to help her learn how the world works before I have to send her out without a guide. I am definitely in no hurry to wish away this year or any other of her childhood. I want to enjoy every stage.
Nevertheless, I keep hearing about the magical age of four, and I have to say that I’m looking forward to the fruits of what I hope is consistent discipline. The sweetness without the need to test all day would probably take at least another ten minutes off of our morning routine. Snooze button on my alarm, you may be just eleven months away.
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