I redeemed myself from the night before. Kiddos wanted a sleep fort. Ellie fell asleep in hers. No crying. All on her own. Early.
Now if only I could get her to pee in the potty consistently. That would be cool. And I wouldn’t complain. Not at all.
Which has me thinking a lot about how everyone tells you to watch out for the terrible twos. I have a theory about that. I honesty don’t think the twos have been bad for me or my kids. (Knock on wood seeing as I still have one who has yet to hit the 2 year mark).
I am not saying that the two year old phase hasn’t been without it’s adventures. There certainly was that time Cole showered his room with powder. And then there was the time where early one morning Cole got a hold of the coffee and spilled it on the rug.
Then there was also that time that Ellie added Palmolive to the dishwasher and the time she wrote on my brand new white pleather office chair. And even then, I ran to get the camera.
I mean, it was some seriously engaging Facebook fodder. It was cute. How can you get mad at them!?
But at three!? Those little turds should know better! They are getting older, and wiser, and shadier and sassier so you know they know just how to push your buttons. There isn’t a language barrier because they can talk now. And if you’re one of the lucky ones, they can even pee and poop in the toilet! I mean, that right there is the measure of maturity and cuteness.
Well, I officially have a threenager in my house. What is a threenager, you ask? It’s a three year old going on thirteen. It is H-E-L-L! Ya’ll, she is something fierce!
She’s stubborn. She knows it all. She’s sassy. She’s smart.