This is, basically, our son, The Dude.
More often though, he's a dog, or an alien, or a robot.....complete with sound effects, walking on all fours, or in the aliens case, waving his arms around and bumping into us claiming "I'm an aliennnn" in a strange voice.
Do I love Dudes imagination? With a passion. It warms my heart to see him open a book, then re-enact the story, to watch him "fight" like a Ninja Turtle, to listen to him tell stories. But when he refuses to do what I ask him to because he's a "Ninja Turtle" at that time, well, that's where I start to lose my patience.
Since day one, Dude has been one of the most important things in my life, I love him with all of my heart, but lately, now that he's almost 3 and a half, he's been running this emotional roller coaster he has me on. And running it like a crazy man.
Some days, Dude is so ridiculously sweet and responsible and he listens to everything that I ask him to do, and does it with a smile on his face. This will last for a few days, for as long as a week. To the point where S and I start to wonder if the Terrible 3's are over (because everyone was right when they said that 3 was worse than 2!).....and we start waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then it drops. And we get reintroduced to the "nos", the "I don't have to do that right now", the "I don't feel good", and the negotiating, and the not eating his meals without arguing and frustration.
I want to cry when I think of Dude going off to school, I actually want to cry when I think of Dude going off to preschool even though it will maybe be 3 days a week. My heart breaks when I think of him getting on the school bus. But then I hear "Mama mama mama mama mama mama" for the hundreth time that morning and I want to scream. When I can't pee without a seconds peace, when he continues to ask me to get him things even when S is home from work.....I want to scream even more. And sometimes by the end of the day, when he and Princess are in bed...I want to go to bed too because I'm so emotionally exhausted.
There are times that Dude will sleep until 7am or, blissfully, even later. This time allows me to wake up early in the morning with S, have a few cups of coffee, and get in a wicked workout, so that by the time Dude wakes up I'm ready to start my day with a bounce in my step.
|so peaceful *sigh*|
But then there are times when he will wake up at 5am or 5:30am and even after telling him that it's still dark out and that it's still bedtime, and putting him back into bed numerous times, he still gets up, gets up, and then lays in bed talking to himself until the sun is barely up and comes into the living room with a smile on his face informing me that he can be up now because the sun is up. These days, are usually long, struggling days.
Dude is an amazing kid. He is awesome with his little sister, is already good with identifying and explaining his emotions. Colors pictures with a passion, loves to fish with daddy, loves to cook with me. He's a wicked charmer, and a flirt, and has a smile that is a lady killer. He's strong, active, but also a wicked cuddle bug. I couldn't love this kid any more if I tried. Except for when I want to strangle him.
The other day, I caught him about to poop in his underwear as he was hiding behind the coffee table. Is Dude fully potty trained? Of course he is, but he is known to have accidents (regressing slightly because Princess is older and getting more attention? We're sure of it.). So I rushed him into the bathroom and got him on the toilet gritting my teeth the whole time because I had already had enough with poop that day since I had just changed a nasty ass diaper of Princess'. As I shoo Princess out of the bathroom so she wouldn't try to touch that appendage of her brothers that was so conveniently sticking out since he was sitting on the toilet, Dude informs me "There's nothing to be mad about ma." I grit my teeth and hold back a scream (it was a hard day) and continue to get ready to wipe my sons ass. Again.
Those are the times where I anxiously await "4"....but then I start to tear up again because "4" means preschool.
Like I said, my son has me on an emotional roller coaster mess.
Why do we deal with it? Because he's awesome, and so like us, that it's ridiculous. I'm sure that the reason the Dude and I butt heads so much is because he's as stubborn as I am. And I actually like that. I'm sure he won't take peoples shit when he gets older, and that makes me proud. And, because he still says "Thank you so much for getting me a Buzz Lightyear for my birthday!" with the biggest, sweetest smile on his face.
|Dudes 3rd birthday|