Because I am
pretty much dead inside and able to completely tune out my children’s shenanigans a parenting expert, I don’t tend to face parenting challenges on a regular or even semi-regular basis.
On the rare, unfortunate occasion that one of The Dudes does act up, I am able to deal with it
by yelling expertly. I majored in criminology people, I know how justice works. And I don’t have a problem leveling it and such.
Um, accept for on days ending in Y.
How do you think parenting BY dummies jumped off in the first place?
It was born of months, no, scratch that, years of frustration over feeling like the least intelligent person in the household, despite being the most in debt thanks to education.
I felt dumb (and mostly still do) every single day I interacted with my children (which was every single day), while they outsmarted my attempts to be organized, be a disciplinarian, and act like I owned the place.
I have become slightly more skilled since then.
But only just slightly.
And not when dealing with the 3 year old Dude.
3 year olds can NOT be reasoned with. Logic doesn’t work on them, because they don’t have a need for it.
Because they are dictators.
And dictators don’t require explanations. Or the ability to think logically. Or listen to reason. Or anything else for that matter.
Everything the 3 year old says is official; law even.
There is no room for discussion. No opportunity to convince him to see sense.
Because he is senseless…
Example 1: Me: Hey buddy, clean up your toys in the basement please.
#3: No. I’m not gonna cwean, I’m gonna eat a snack.
Me: Well, Mommy can’t make you a snack until you clean up your mess.
#3: Well, I don’t need Mommy to make a snack. I can make my own snack and you can cwean up my toys.
One point for #3!
Example 2: Me: Alright, kiddo, time to go to school!
#3: Actually, it’s time for me to watch TV.
Me: Nope. But, we can watch something when we come back from school.
#3: I can’t go to school naked.
Me: WHY ARE YOU NAKED!? WHERE ARE YOU CLOTHES!?
#3: I don’t need cwoes because I’m not going to school. I’m watching TV.
Another point for #3.
Example 3: Me: Excuse me, guy, please don’t call me a smelly booty face. That is not nice!
#3: Scratch my back, it itches.
And, that’s 3 points for #3 so I’m gonna go ahead and quit. I hate losing.
As you can see, not only does he not listen to me, he really, really just doesn’t listen to me.
So I’m sorta heading back to the drawing board to work on my parenting skills.
And my not busting him up skills too.
admit that I sometimes bust up my kids, silly; I’d suck at going to jail.
Anyway, back to the annoying 3 year old behavior that got me talking about busting people up, the kid is a control freak!
He’s like a little Napoleon, and I don’t mean the dorky pushover with the mini-fro, thick glasses, and puffy boots (although he does have a similar affinity for snow shoes). I mean the evil-ish one with the puffed up chest and the funny little voice.
That’s what I’m dealing with over here.
A 3 year old baby tyrant.
That is intermittently sweet and charming and fun to be around.
I can’t help but laugh when he pulls his crazy out on other people.
Which is bad. So, so bad.
Because laughing perpetuates the behavior, right?
But, since all of my other bright ideas pretty much blew up in my face, I’m trying a new parenting tactic.
Just hear me out.
I’ve decided that I’m going to laugh when he insults, belittles, dismisses, or makes demands of people who aren’t me in hopes that it will encourage him to stop being a Mini Mussolini (what? Evil dictators are interchangeable here) with me and only take out his crazy on outsiders.
Probably it’s not going to work.
And probably I don’t care.
Or, maybe it will work so well we will never be able to leave the house or be seen in public again for fear of how hideously he might insult another person.
I’m thinking that actually might work for me; I have the Internet here, why do I need to leave?
It’s all I got, I used up my very best parenting skills on these two…
And fortunately, aside from living as a dictator, #3 is otherwise sorta shaping up awesome all on his own (I intervene when necessary, I swear!)…
People lied to me about 2 being terrible. Age 3 is where it’s at, yo!
What has been the hardest age for you to shine as a parent?
*Today’s post has been brought to you by the letter M. For Mussolini, misery, and Mama Kat.