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She’s Not A Brat. She’s Just A 3-Year-Old.
Her cheeks are bright red, and her little body shakes with tears. My daughter throws herself onto the floor of the store’s changing room, expressing her frustration. Her grandmother is about to treat her to a lovely dress, but my daughter is furious because she wanted not one, but three dresses. Yes, even the one she said “didn’t spin right” and the one she refused to try on at all. Despite their perceived flaws, she wanted to take them all home. So instead of expressing gratitude to Grandma, she wails and thrashes on the dirty floor.
She’s not a brat; she’s just a 3-year-old.
Her sweet little friend asks her to join in a game of “balance the stick.” (What? Who knows.) My daughter kindly declines. Her friend’s face falls, clearly upset. “Sophie?” I gently remind her. “Do you recall how disappointed you felt last week when your friends didn’t want to play Rescue Bots with you? This is how Emma feels right now. How about giving ‘balance the stick’ a try for a few minutes?” She looks at me blankly. “No, thank you!” she chirps, turning away.
She’s not inconsiderate; she’s just a 3-year-old.
It’s time to use the bathroom before we head out. My daughter insists she doesn’t need to go. “Oh, great, because Mommy really has to go!” I say, trying to encourage her. “Do you need to go really bad?” she asks, intrigued. “Are you going to have an accident?” I solemnly nod, and watch her dash to the toilet ahead of me.
She’s not cruel; she’s just a 3-year-old.
“May I watch Rescue Bots when we get home?” my daughter asks. “Absolutely!” I reply cheerfully. “Your sister has piano lessons, and you can watch an episode before we head to the store.” Suddenly, my cheerful child hurls her snack bowl onto the van floor and arches her back in outrage. “But I want to watch SO MANY SHOWS!!!” she yells, her eyes wide with frustration.
She’s not ungrateful; she’s just a 3-year-old.
“It’s bath time!” I announce, as I fill the tub. “But I can’t!” she cries. “My knee hurts!”
“Would you like a Band-Aid?” I suggest helpfully.
“NO! THAT WILL MAKE IT WORSE!” she shouts, clearly offended by my suggestion.
“Should we put some cream on it?” I ask.
If she could, she would have rolled her eyes at me. Instead, she sighs dramatically and covers her face with her hands, clearly exasperated by what she perceives as utter incompetence.
She’s not a diva; she’s just a 3-year-old.
In the company of my threenager, I rarely go long without witnessing her fiery side. She frequently sobs over perceived injustices, whether it’s my refusal to allow her to eat an entire box of organic fruit snacks or the fact that her nightlight isn’t perfectly aligned with her bed. It’s as if she navigates life in a constant state of melodrama, as though her favorite show has just been canceled. I sometimes think about sneaking her some calming herbs in her yogurt.
But then I remind myself: she’s not emotionally unstable. She’s just a 3-year-old.
Honestly, she can be a bit of a handful. But she’ll grow out of it eventually.
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Summary:
This article humorously explores the challenges of parenting a 3-year-old. It highlights the emotional ups and downs that come with early childhood, emphasizing that these behaviors are a normal part of development. Recognizing that her daughter is simply navigating her young emotions helps the author maintain perspective and patience.