My daughter who just turned three in September, started at a new daycare center a few weeks ago and throughout the day the new teacher Ms. Jody asked about her old teacher. Madison thought about it for a moment then told confounded daycare aid something she never thought she would hear a three year old say.
“She was nice but she was nervous and awkward.” Madison, three years old.
While in the middle of a small restaurant with her Gramy, Papa and sister Jamy, Madison seemed to be trying her grandparent’s patients with the antics of any two year old. After a long morning of being told “Don’t touch”, “Sit still”, “That doesn’t go in your mouth!”, “Madi don’t interrupt.”, and the all time favorite, “Stop that!” the toddle had enough. She touched her grandma’s arm, smiled sweetly and said loudly enough for the whole restaurant to hear…
“Gramy… I need positives.” Madison, two years old.
Taking a toddle out to eat is usefully hit or miss. Sometimes the toddler eats well, other times it is pulling tooth a nail to even get them to take a bite. One evening, while out to dinner Jason was just not eating his dinner. After sending away a plate full of food Jason asked if he could have desert. His father asked him why he thought he could have desert after not eating his dinner.
“My dinner compartment is full, but my desert compartment is empty.” Jason, four years old.
A few weeks back Madison and I were in a parking lot waiting for her father and sister before going into the restaurant. A large truck backed into us then slowly took off, I was in shock not sure what just happened.
“Momma, that truck just bumped us really big.” Madison, three years old.
Whenever something did not go the children’s way they would pout and say something like, “I guess I’ll never get to eat candy again” Or “I guess I’ll never get to go to the park again.” Whatever was a no in that moment became “I guess I’ll never (insert action) Again.” We started saying “Nope guess not.” Every time this depressing and untrue phase was said, in order to make light of the pity fest.
One day during a really bad storm a 100 year old maple fell on our porch and crushed our car. Us adults were running around the house trying to figure out what to do when one of the kids looked out the window and sighed heavily at the tangled mess of metal and tree.
“I guess we’ll never ride in that car again.” Sighed, four year old Toby.
“Nope” sighed three year old Serenity, ” guess not.”
While sitting quietly watching Dora with her grandma my three year old begun to show signs of the flu, a slight fever, and lethargic behavior were just the start. We knew she was going to have a good case of the bug when she gasped and exclaimed in shock…
“I have bubbles in my butt!” Madison, three years old.
Later the poor child explained solemnly that she needed a diaper that night because,
“I have pee-pee poop.” Madison, three years old.
After a while she had an accident in her pants, I rushed her to the bathroom and started to clean her up. She looked at me with sad green eyes and said faintly,
“It really wasn’t me momma, it was my bum.” Madison, three years old.