As each month passes and Graham grows a month older, I think about how I love the new age even more than I did the last age. I remember doing this with Addie for quite some time. Every single month that past was much more fun to watch her experience and grow. Then she hit three.
Three is an age that I don't love. I feel awful about it but there's a lot of personality at this age and a whole lot of, "I want to do it myself". Which is fine until you're leaving church and she wants to squirt antibacterial sanitizer on her hands but you know she'll spill it all over herself, you and the diaper bag. So screams, "no, I want to do it myself" and parks herself in the middle of the lobby as church is letting out.
Or the bedtime routine that takes an hour of reading, singing, building tents, "I gotta go potty", "I need lotion", etc. And she finally goes to sleep and then you're woken up at 3am to her trying to climb into bed with you, or screaming that she has to go potty.
I find myself incredibly frustrated, losing my patience, and yelling too often. Every day is a battle with her and every day I lose my patience and yell. And then I feel bad. Because in all of the yelling I stop and remember, she's only 3. Three years old. I am feeling lost as a parent and have no idea how to parent her at this point. Three years old is a much scarier age than three days old in a lot of ways.
I'm looking for good books, good parenting sites, classes, etc that will teach me how to parent better, how to remain calm and be a better person for her. So, I'm often reminded to take a step back. This weekend, it was in this picture I took of her at the park. It's just her. At three years old and still so innocent. I have to treasure this.