Conversations with the Moo

If you’re new to this little blog, you should know that I call my youngest daughter Millie-Moo.  It wasn’t intentional, it just came out one day when she was a baby and it stuck.  Yes, I know she’ll probably hate me for it in a few years, but right now I really don’t care.  She’s so stinking cute, I can’t help it.

Amelia turned three last week.  It is a bold-faced lie of parenting books that the twos are terrible.  Twos are fine.  Twos are all learning new things and loving my mommy and gaining new words and a whole new world.

February 2012

Then there are threes.

February 2013

Threes are tantrums and nap refusals and independent streaks at the most inopportune moments and just a little bit of meanness to see what happens.  Oh, and stripping off your dress at your birthday party.

She’s three now.  I’m not really a fan.  Except that she’s hilarious when I’m not the one who’s experiencing these less than sweet moments.

The other day, I was trying desperately to get her to nap.  We had been up and down at least three times, read more books than I should allow, sung every song I know and can semi-carry a tune for and still, she kept creeping out of that bedroom.  (Yes, I tried spanking.  But that makes her scream and wake up her brother, so it’s off my list for the moment.)  She wanted crackers this time.  So I explained…..

“You can’t have crackers in bed.  It will make crumbs and the ants will come and bite you.”
Big, round eyes staring at me in disbelief. Then…”What ants?  My Aunt Katy and Aunt Audrey?”

Aunt Audrey and Millie

Silly girl!  I guess it is tough when you’re three and don’t know about homophones.

At preschool with her teacher (who is my good friend) she talks about making good choices.  So, I’ve tried to carry that over to home, although I think it works better for Andrea than it does for me.  Her daddy asked her to throw her napkin away the other day and we had this conversation:

“I can’t, my arms is crossed,” she had her head tilted and hip out and was all sass.  Oh, and her arms were crossed, too.
“Amelia, are you making a good choice right now?”
“Nope.”  I swear she rolled her eyes.
“Do you want to make a good choice?”
Big sigh, arms thrown down.  “I guess so.”  

Well, that’s improvement, right?

Oh, these threes.  If I hadn’t already survived them twice with a daughter who is infinitely more stubborn than anyone else, I would be worried.  As it is, I think we’re going to make it.

The beauty of multiple kids is you not only see the light at the end of the tunnel, you already know how many steps it takes to get there.