And by interesting, I mean it's a small act of God that I survived the evening at home with my 3 1/2 year old who thinks he's a 15 year old teenage girl. While I'm sure that a 15 year old girl doesn't fill her days calling people "poopy" or making "shooting" noises at people, I'm pretty sure smirks, heavy sighs, and bouts of yelling fit the description. Oh, the drama!
We are in full-blown preschool mode. While I envisioned these days being filled with silly conversations, singing songs, learning sight words, and practicing handwriting skills, I wish someone would have warned me that was merely a fraction of what it means to be a preschooler.
A better description would be three-is-the-new-two, coupled with attitude-for-days, and pushing-the-boundaries-until-mom-snaps.
Introducing Sean:
He may look innocent, but he's been known to take away his brother's toys, pinch, hiss at you, and even growl at you like a scary monster. Look out now!
But, when he lets down his guard, he's also been known to give the best.hugs.ever! He'll randomly surprise you with comments like, "I love you so much mommy. That makes me so happy." He also decides at certain moments to reach out and hug his brother as tight as he can.
It's times like those when I begin to overlook the "poopy dinner" he refused to eat or the tantrum about going to Tiny Town at 8:30am on a Sunday morning.
Because deep down inside, he's just a little boy that is afraid of bugs, but loves to dig in the dirt and sand knowing that they'll be bugs in there.
He's willing to try new activities like skiing or t-ball, but hasn't quite found his niche yet.
He's so intent on being independent one minute as he hits the t-ball with the bat "BY MYSELF", but needs help getting his shirt off before bath or figuring out which shoe goes on which foot.
His daddy is his favorite friend and the one he asks to read him stories before bed every night.
He's a dreamer. He prefers made-up stories to actual paperback books. He'll tell you stories himself when we've run out of stories to tell. They have to be about working trucks and they usually involve a swimming pool. He draws pictures of ghosts and monsters. And he loves to say, "I have an idea!" all wide-eyed.
He can be stubborn and gets frustrated easily when something is challenging. Working on a letter and can't quite make it the right shape? He'll scribble all over in frustration. Trying to peddle a trike down the driveway and he gets stuck? He'll put his feet down on the ground and use them to push off the cement instead. Ask him to draw a circle? He'll draw lines that represent ghosts.
He's smart. He's inquisitive. He knows exactly what he likes and doesn't like. He thinks he's got life all figured out. And despite the challenging age and all that comes with it, it's an age of independence and discovery and he finds a way to make me laugh every day.
Like tonight, when he told me to "make good choices" after he got out of time out. Apparently, my decision to put him in time out wasn't a "good choice". How can you not love a smarty-pants like that??
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