It finally happened. The you-know-what hit the fan, and I’ve officially lost it. My amazingly adorable, intelligent and loving three-year-old just became THAT kid, the bad kid. Yes, I know it’s a phase… everyone is telling me it’s a phase…. OMG, it better be a phase.
Brendan is now consistently getting bad reports at school. He apparently forgot how to share, picked up hitting, and screams like a cat in heat when he doesn’t get his way. Okay, things could be worse. A lot worse. But let’s be honest (and selfish) for a moment. My mental state is at stake here. If mommy loses her mind, then what?
My behavior these last few weeks has changed too. I have lost my patience. I have my own temper tantrums. My frustration is visible, and I can’t help but turn red and clench my teeth when my child is acting out. I want to throw something. Run away. Mommy needs a time out.
No one told me how hard this was going to be. And that there would be these moments, split-second moments, when I plan my escape.
The worst thing about all of this, besides the anger and frustration, is fear. Fear that, oh my god, something is wrong with my child. He’s going to be intolerable–scare all the other kids away–not be invited to birthday parties.
Alright, so who really cares about parties. I’m just trying to figure out what the problem is and how I can fix it.
I’d like to chalk it up to the fact that Brendan realizes his new baby sister is here to stay, although sometimes I have to convince myself of that. Why? Because he seems to love her. Multiple times a day he says to me “Mommy, I love Audrey.” Ugh, how could this sweet boy turn into a mini-monster?
Aside from sibling jealousy, what else could be causing this behavior?
- He’s three!! And three is the new terrible two…
- Not enough alone time with Mommy? I’ve definitely considered this and am trying to give him some one-on-one.
- He’s going through an “emotional” growth spurt. I forget where I heard this from, but I love it. Sometimes I gently tell him he needs to learn how to control his emotions. And then when Daddy comes home, he runs to the door to tell him “need to control ‘motions Daddy!”
- I’m doing it wrong… and now we need Super Nanny to come to our house. Or worse, have Dr. Phil set up his secret cameras.
The bottom line is the good moments always outweigh the bad. And although we joke about planning an escape, how could we live without them?
Perhaps there are some other moms out there who can remind me how tough they’ve had it so I can feel a little better about myself.