The Dark Side of Three

My once-sweet 3-year-old son is fast approaching the not-so-sweet age of 3-and-a-half. The half-birthdays have always proven most difficult in regards to our kids' behavior, and it seems that for Zeben, 3.5 is no exception.

Zeben
April 2010

"I hate you!"

"You're stupid!"

"I don't love you anymore!"

It is so hard at this moment to remember the baby he once was, to appreciate Zeben for all of his curmudgeony quirkiness. To not feel hurt and dismayed by his angry words. To know that he is still so very small, still in so much need of me: of my comforting body, my calm reassurance, my unending patience.

But sometimes, these days, Zeb just isn't very likable. He cries easily (and loudly!), crumples into a ball over the injustice of the fact that someone else has already pushed the button for the elevator ("I don't like anyone in this elevator!" he yells from the floor), and is quick to physically attack his big brothers when he doesn't immediately get his way. It can take every bit of my willpower to scoop his body up in my arms and pour my love into him when such a big part of me wants to just escape him somehow. He's just so unreasonable! And, yet, as soon as I hear myself think those words, I have to laugh at myself; I should definitely know better than to expect reason from a 3-year-old.

Laughter, I believe, is the key to surviving the dark side of Three (and, I suppose, of parenting in general). I try not to let myself forget how very funny Zeben can be in the midst of his mean grouchiness. His mind is constantly working to make sense of the world these days, his vocabulary continues to expand rapidly, and when he gets something wrong--or even better, not quite right--life with Zeben can be pretty hilarious.

The other day he was struggling to balance on one foot while he put on his pants. His tolerance for frustration is at an all-time low, so there was lots of groaning involved as he teetered and tottered from one foot to the other.

"Ugh! I just can't do it!"

"You can do it," Lena and I chimed together.

"No I can't! I can't bounce!"

"You can't balance?" I asked.

"Right, I can't bounce! Ugh!"

"Ba-lance," I corrected.

"Bounce!" insisted Zeben. "Like when you try to bounce on one foot!"

"But, 'bounce' means to hop up and down, and 'ba-lance' means to be steady and not fall over."

"Ugh, whatever, Mom! Help me put my pants on!"

Little exchanges like this need to be milked for all that they're worth these days, as Lena and I work to appreciate every little bit of humor that Zeben brings to this impossibly contrary time. When I made the kids' beds this past weekend (we were expecting company; bed-making is nowhere near a daily occurrence in our house at the moment), I set up all of the stuffed animals along the edge of Zeben's mattress. He's very much into stuffed animals these days (especially the four he insists on bringing with us wherever we go: Little Hop, Leo-The-Monkey, Little-Cute-Little-Elephant, and Funny Bunny), and likes to tell just about anyone that he is "collecting a stuffed animal collection." So I knew that he'd get a kick out of seeing all of the animals on his bed, and I was not disappointed. What I didn't expect, however, was that he'd come across all of the animals and ask,

"Hey, what are these guys all doing up here?"

"Oh, I just made your bed and thought you might like to see them all sitting on it, waiting for you," I explained.

"Um, but, didn't you think they all might like a book to read?!"

Um, no, can't say that I did.

Zeben quickly righted my wrong and spent a (rather frustrated) half-hour setting up books for the animals to "read."

Nearly pleased with himself

my favorite was the mouse

Thankfully there continues to be much sweetness between Zeb and his baby brother Leo, without which we might really struggle to enjoy our third son these days. By savoring the moments--however fleeting they may be--of camaraderie and spontaneous affection, we gain the ability to tolerate--however intolerable it may be--Zeben's less lovely behavior. We know not to despair, that this phase will morph into something new, that as long as we can remember to laugh at the end of each day, we are doing just fine.

Zeb and Leo
April 2010

But, I would be lying if I said we weren't seriously, seriously excited for this phase to end. I'm kinda hoping for May 15th, the day after Zeb turns three-and-a-half. But I'll settle for anytime this year if I have to. Four never looked so good.