I had a completely different topic in mind for today’s post. But if I’m being honest, I’m spent. Coherent sentences are unlikely to happen at this point. Wanna know why? Because my daughter (3) is going through a ridiculously annoying and simultaneously infuriating phase. She’s turning into… a threenager!!!
For the record, my son never pulled any of this baloney!
She wakes up at midnight or 12:30 and then proceeds to walk back and forth between our bedroom and her bedroom crying. It is hands down the most insane experience of my parenting years yet. I have no solution to this issue. It begins by her standing in the hallway next to my bedroom door. Then she makes her way back to her room and closes her door. Then the sobbing begins. When one of us tries to help her, she gets back in her bed, we get back in our bed, and then the crying happens all over again. It goes on for a minimum of two hours. Every night.
I’m sleep deprived and my fuse is currently about an eighth of an inch long. Granted it was never very long to begin with, but I’m fairly certain I had about a two inch fuse before all this started happening.
So many things are coming out of this insanity. Here are five of them:
5 Terrible Awful Things About Having a Threenager
- I’m no longer preschool-friendly. Yes, that’s how I gauge whether I’m being a responsible parent. If I can efficiently filter my thoughts and words down to a preschool level, I’m winning. This is not the case this week. I have no filter. I am no longer preschool-friendly.
- My neighbors probably question my sanity on a daily basis. Amid the screams, the slamming doors, the expletives, and all the ranting and raving in my house, it’s likely they already assume I’m the Wicked Witch of the East. I can’t wait to turn back into Glinda the Good Witch. Haha. If only the Good Witch part was true…
- My runs are suffering. And honestly, that’s the biggest thing I’m upset about right now. I’m six weeks out from a marathon. SIX WEEKS. These are my weeks to really work and step up to the plate. Tuesday’s strides were slow miles (no strides to speak of), and Wednesday at the track went extremely well but for the rest of the day I felt like I had run a 20-miler. I need sleep. Bad.
- We are all angry at the world. My husband comes home from work with a somber face. I sit down at the dinner table completely defeated. My son throws a tantrum when we have squash for dinner. The threenager doesn’t even eat dinner. WE ARE FALLING APART, PEOPLE!
- I am getting irrationally upset over politics. I drove by a yard sign for the opponent of the person I’m voting for and it happened to be in my neighborhood. It almost brought me to tears. I feel like I need to go have a heart to heart with my Rabbi or something because I’m so distraught over this political environment right now I can’t stand it. I’m failing to understand how well-educated, nice people — people I consider in my close friendship circle — can even entertain the notion of voting for the person they’re publicly supporting. I just… I can’t… Couple politics with lack of sleep and well, we’ve got a recipe for disaster in my headspace.
Sometimes parenthood is awesome. Other times, not even a little bit. We’re in the “not even a little bit” chapter. My husband keeps assuring me it’s a phase. I keep assuring him if it’s not over in 24 more hours, I’m peacing out and I’ll see him at the Ritz where I’ll book the honeymoon suite and every spa treatment known to man. These people can fend for themselves. Mama needs her sanity back!
Having a threenager is terrible awful.
Now excuse me while I go stuff myself into s’mores ice cream oblivion.
Parents: HELP ME! How do you deal with threenagers??
Necessary postscript: I love my kids. But I’m exhausted.