When Peanut, his older brother, was turning three, I remember thinking, "Wow....The 'terrible twos' weren't so bad. Whew! We made it through unscathed!" When I voiced my relief to a girlfriend, she quickly shot me down. "Oh, 'the twos' are nothing. It's 'the threes' that are the worst for a boy!" So, while at the time I truly did not appreciate her candor, "the threes" actually were a bit more tantrum-filled for Peanut. (Although I really have to wonder sometimes why moms constantly feel the need to "one-up" each other. Can't you just allow me to enjoy my ignorant bliss once in a while?!?)
Anyway, let's hope the same does not prove true for little Pumpkin up there. Because, in all honesty, if his "threes" are worse than his "twos," we may need to call for backup. At times, my precious silly boy is the most loving little toddler on the planet. And then, with virtually no warning, he morphs into a flailing, shrieking, throwing maniac whom we barely recognize.
And today, Pumpkin is officially 2 1/2. I could look at that two ways: 1) I am in the throes of the total tantrum stage, and I had better just accept it and pray, or 2) I only have six months left of the "terrible twos," and the threes have just got to be better, right? Just don't tell my aforementioned friend that second philosophy. I'd prefer to remain in my happy place right now and keep hoping that Pumpkin is just mature for his age and that my kindhearted second-born will reemerge without his evil twin someday very soon.
Until then...if you need me, you can probably find me presiding over the third time-out before dinner. Happy 2 1/2, Pumpkin! :)