At least once every few weeks, one of our kids will get on a kick about "favorites". We answer questions about favorite foods, movies, books, colors, and numbers. The number three has a special place in the list of favorites at our house. Dale Earnhardt drove the number three car before he was killed. As early as February 2002, the first NASCAR race after Kennedy's birth, our kids have enjoyed (or endured) countless hours of NASCAR and conversations about Earnhardt and Junior. Needless to say, when Kennedy was asked what number she preferred on her softball team last month, she immediately answered "three!".
The number three is significant to Chad because of his hero and Kennedy because she adores her daddy and has been brainwashed. Taylor is excited about third grade next month. We do have three kids and are currently living in our third house as a family while I work my third job since college. However, the number three is my least favorite number!
BADkid is three. I love that child with every fiber of my being. However, she is three. I can't even recall the number of times (maybe 33,333) I have thought and said, "I don't remember three being this bad before". Is it because she is the THIRD child? Maybe it's because I'm in my 30s? Maybe it's a combination of all of the above?
Blake Alayne is an affectionate, tender, loving child for about 20 minutes of each week. Beyond that, she is wide open and will test every single thing you say to her every single time. If you've seen her in action, you probably said something really disgusting like "she's so cute". You probably heard me say something really honest like "only because she doesn't live at your house". Seriously, I love her, but she is wearing me out.
Here's a tiny glimpse into my morning at the grocery store.
Get out of car and unbuckle kid who has taken off her shoes. Tell her to put her shoes on. Take doll and blanket away from kid and repeat that she must put her shoes on her feet. Wait 2 minutes because she has decided to squeal "my caint!" instead of bend over and pick up her shoes. Explain to kid that she can take either the doll or the blanket into the store, but not both. Give up reasoning with kid. Throw doll and blanket back in car and head for the entrance. Hold kid's hand in a death grip across parking lot as kid tries to pull hand away and continuously repeats "I big girl. I listen!" Get buggy. Explain to kid that she must hold buggy. Kid darts off away from buggy. Put kid in seat in buggy as kid demands "I big girl. I listen. I walk." Pick shoes up off floor and toss into back of buggy. Quickly zip through store and buy only the necessary items while repeating the phrase "sit down" at least once every three minutes and resorting to spanking. Check out, open car door and let kid get in while putting groceries in the truck. Return buggy to holder, tell kid to sit in her seat to buckle. Kid tries to climb into front seat of car, grab kid, explain danger of playing in car, put her in seat, turn around because someone spoke, kid tries to escape, grab kid, hold into seat while buckling as she screams, "My do it my se---elf!!"
In our world with the three year old, everything takes three times as long and requires more patience than I can accumulate in three weeks. Some days I feel like the only time I can relax my guard is when she is sleeping, which only happens briefly. My BADkid spends so much time and energy getting into mischief and demanding things be her way that when she finally crashes, she is "throwed outta gear" like this. (Yes, those of us living life with a transmission mechanic actually hear and use phrases such as that).
I do love this BADkid. I sometimes even sit and chuckle as I think of all the cute, precious, funny things she says and does. As I was finishing this post she woke up from her brief nap. She stretched, climbed up in my chair, hugged me and said, "I wuv you sooo much." Of course I said, "I love you soooo much too" as I silently thought "One day she will be four and "they" say I'll miss this, but right now I'm thankful we only have to endure 365 days of THREE!"
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