I don't want to! and other sayings from a three year old

When I was growing up I had heard of the term, terrible twos.  So as my first was approaching two I got all sweaty on my palms cause I just KNEW it was gonna be bad.

Those people were flat out liars.

Two?  Fabulous!

Three? 

Not. enough. wine. in. this. world.

Three for my oldest involved lots and lots of NO and ERGH! and frustration when things didn't work right, or his way.  Often his ideas were bigger than the toy itself and he got mad when it wouldn't work the way the movie in his mind was playing.  Overall, it wasn't really mad at me, but things.  He was never vocal about clothes, or food really.  With some coaching, patience, and a lot of wine, he has finally learned to scream ask for help rather than throw the blocks across the room.   Isn't that great?

And then comes Cherub Number 2.

I love that they are different.  I love that toys don't really get the best of #2 like they did #1.  I love that he loves sports and puzzles.  I love that he loves his brother.

And then you blink and it's

I DON'T WAAAAAAAAANT TOOOOOOOOO.

He's becoming a fashionista about his clothes these days.  If it's not his Batman or Bumblebee shirt, forget it.  And of course we don't understand it should be washed before you wear it again, or maybe only wear it once a week.  (cause I have this hang up about wearing the same shirt in the same week.  is that weird?)

If I pick his clothes out it's, "I don't want to wear that."  But if HE had picked it out, it would be fine.  This morning I pulled out shorts that used to be big brother's.  He tried them on Saturday and all was fine.  But today when I had them for him to wear, "I don't like theeeeeeeese.  I don't waaaaaant to."  I have said lately, "Fine, then you go get something to wear," and he does and it doesn't match and I try not to come unglued.  And then I remember seeing those moms in the store with their kids in Batman pajamas and wonder "why on earth did you let them go out like that??????" 

Now I get it.

Or he will eat the noodles like nobody's business on Saturday, but the serve the same ones last night?

"I don't liiiiike thissss."

(actually it's more "thitttttthhhhhh" with his lisp)

And then the drama.

We lay down.

We kick our feet.

We roll around.

And then I say, "no, not a sound.  We are not going to throw a tantrum."

and we lay down.

We kick our feet.

We roll around.

SILENTLY.

And if I turn away, he gets in front of me and does it again. 

I don't like beans,

I don't like chicken, unless you call it a nugget.

I don't like clothes unless it has a super hero on it.

I don't like juice, but sometimes I do on Tuesdays.

I don't like shoes unless you call them "baseball" shoes.  And I won't wear them unless they are baseball shoes.

I can only climb in car seat by myself.

Only Daddy can get me out.

If Daddy can't get me out, then ME DO IT.

If Mom said it, it's a bad idea.

If Mom wants it, I don't.

I'm three.  I'm  independent.  I'm  sprouting my wings.

I'm difficult.

I'm precious.  I'm loving.

I'm three.