Three year olds

Three years old.

People warned us about the threes, and THEY WERE RIGHT. Whew. It’s a whole new game. It’s still all the tantrums but now...she has developed language and uses it to hurt me. Seriously, Eleanor can make me cry. I mean I’m sensitive, but still...she’s three! The other day she had a meltdown because she didn’t want to wear a seat belt. (I know I’m such a mean mom.) It was a full-on screaming battle in the parking lot of Village Fresh. I was sweating + exhausted by the time I buckled myself in, and just cried right there in the front seat next to the milk + diapers. I feel so inadequate most days. The baby stage felt simpler, but now these are issues of the heart which are confusing and ever-changing.

While it’s overwhelming and seems like there are a thousand things to teach her, we’re focusing on self-control right now. She’s like her mama--big, gigantic feelings that demand to be felt. Self-control when it comes to emotions is something that I struggle with. It’s ironic how we can be so baffled with a child for reacting a certain way when they are mad/sad/frustrated, yet be guilty of the very same thing. Maybe I’m not throwing myself on the ground or screaming at someone (not on a normal day at least), but do I say things that are hurtful when I’m mad? Am I passive aggressive when offended? Do I try to control anything + everything when I’m afraid? Yeah, sometimes I do. It’s ugly and it’s painful to admit these things about myself as I see similar things in my own daughter.

But we are working on it, the two of us. We’re trying to get better at communicating how we feel. Knowing when we’re mad, or frustrated, or sad. Then saying out loud why we feel that way. Yesterday, Jude grabbed something from her hand and ran to the other room hoping she would chase him (this is a game he thinks he fun…). Eleanor said “UGH. That makes me MAD!” (Still screaming though ….we’re working on that). It sounds funny to say, but I was so proud of her in this moment. She didn’t hit him, or throw a toy, or run after him and push him to the ground like she used to do. She used her words. And together we talked through what she could do to fix it. I was so dang proud of her.

Then later that day I was annoyed and kept micromanaging Jeffrey on how to parent the kids (even though he’s been a parent the EXACT same amount of time that I have, something I often forget). I had to stop and ask myself why I was doing that. I realized I was anxious, which is common in these postpartum days (thank you hormones). After the kids went to bed, I told him I was sorry and admitted out loud that it was coming from being so anxious--for no real reason. It was a little bit of growth for me. And you know what, I was proud of myself in that moment too.

So here I am, almost 30 (!!) with a 3 year old daughter, learning the same lessons. I’m both teacher + student all at once. Eleanor may not know it, but she will forever be my teacher and I will forever be grateful for her.