Tuesday, 23 July 2013

Three



A few weeks back (actually a month ago - whoops) the boy was three. There was an outside party - inside - because it looked like rain - which he loved. And an actual birthday - which he didn't. His new orange bike is still sitting lonely and un-ridden. He loves the fact it's orange - he just doesn't want to ride it.

Birthdays are funny things. So much anticipation, excitement and expectation. And then you're three - and actually you don 't really care about having a bike. You wanted one because your friends have one. You asked for it to be orange because it's your favourite colour. But when it came to it you just didn't feel like pedalling or steering or even sitting on it. Instead you just want to snuggle on the sofa and read a book. 

Lesson learnt for mummy and daddy - forget big presents, go small and buy the big things as they're needed. Happily he loves the tent we sweated blood (literally) to make him and naps in it everyday.

The tantrums haven't miraculously disappeared as hoped. But they're definitely less frequent. He has suddenly decided to let on that he can count though which is a huge step forward. I mean, we knew he could, we'd catch him at it when he was playing by himself. However if we asked him to count with us it was one, two, six, nine, 17, eleventyseven........ Now he actively wants to learn his numbers which is good because I was fearing he'd inherited my inbuilt distaste for anything remotely numerical bar being able to work out how much I save if Boden are doing 30 per cent off.

We're working on manners. Trying to enforce "please" and "thank you" and "may I haves" over "I want it noooooowwwwww" in that ear piercing whinge that makes you want to run into another room and scream into a pillow. But like all things parenting it's two steps forward and three steps back.

He speaks beautifully when he takes the time and he can melt my heart with some of the adorable things he says. "Mummy I really do love you", "Mummy I miss you when you go away" and "Mummy when I have to get married I'm going to marry Granny."

Sometimes he's just too clever "Mummy I don't want to eat your delicious meatballs" and "Yes, Yes Daddy I know, I know you've told me a hundred times"! How do you even attempt to come back from that? Apparently it's only going to get worse.


No comments:

Related Posts Widget for Blogs by LinkWithin