Day One Hundred-Four: Three Years Old and So Damn Stubborn!

Is this kid cute, or what?! He is beautiful, inquisitive, delightful and my very last baby. He is also very often the bane of my existence. What is it about a stubborn 3 year old that sets my hair aflame?!! I was a professional before my foray into the wild world of motherhood. I put domestic violence offenders in jail. I argued bail cases for accused murderers. I even defended drug dealers, child molesters and the same type of batterers I later help put behind bars. Nothing prepared me for raising a 3 year old. No doubt, there is nothing under the sun is more frustrating, draining or exasperating than a very willful, very stubborn 3 year old.

No one tells you this. Not when everyone and your mother asks, "When are you having kids?" 5 minutes after the wedding vows. Not when the test comes back positive from the obstetrician's office. Not when you take the infernal Lamaze class. Not even when those kindly, knowledgeable maternity nurses send you home with your tiny bundle of love. It is something you hear vague rumblings about once your little one turns about 18 months. "Beware of the Terrible Twos!" is the mantra of many well meaning busybodies. I have found that there is no justification for the idea that 2 years old is horrible. It is 3 that you have to prepare for, watch out for, pray to get through alive.

My 3 year old absolutely refuses to use the word "please," apologize or to go into time out if it is not entirely, absolutely his idea. I have stood with a full sippy cup for a full 5 minutes repeating, "How do you ask?!" a million and one times and he still won't say please. I have literally stood him before the sibling he just swatted with the force of Babe Ruth and told him he must say he is sorry. After a prolonged staring contest with said sibling, he will mutter "sorry" in the least sorry voice I have ever heard. And I have literally picked him up and sat him in time out over and over and over again only to have him go boneless and slink to the floor in exasperating defiance. Is it 5 o'clock somewhere yet?

Before you are allowed to parent, I believe it is imperative to graduate from "3 Year Old Survival Camp." You should be subjected to hours of temper-tantrums, fits of rage and overtired melt-downs from hundreds of 3 year old volunteers. These should occur in simulated grocery stores, full elementary school auditoriums and packed adult restaurants. This way, you know what level of prozac and/or how many glasses of wine will keep the rage and frustration at bay ahead of time. No trial and error during a crisis. If you fail Survival Camp, you will be subjected to immediate and permanent childlessness. Not a bad incentive to fail, now that I think about it.

My darling little angel is now asleep on the couch. He is completely exhausted after a day of busy activity capped with one hum-dinger of a melt-down. I am convinced that God made 3 year olds completely adorable in the dream state simply so we will want to continue the undertaking of caring for them. If he wasn't so damn cute, if he didn't give me those few fleeting but warm and wonderful hugs I would have gone screaming for the hills ages ago.

Ah, kids are such a blessing.