The Threenage Years

Tuesday 29th of October 2013 | Category: Opinion | Written by: Suzanne L

As I sit here typing, my 3 year old is being the picture of angelic perfection. Playing beautifully with his big brother, occassionally dashing over to me for a quick cuddle and just being generally lovely.

Twenty minutes ago, the scene couldn't have been more different. We should have known it was going to be 'one of those days' when the 3 year old tried his hardest to give his older brother a Harry Potter style scar by lobbing the HappyLand Post Office at him. Thankfully, the 7 year old had already decided to dress up as Harry Potter for Halloween.

Fast forward to late morning. No more incidents, breakfast negotiated with everyone intact, healthy mid-morning snacks consumed. But lunch was looming...A 20 minute warning that lunch was just around the corner and that we would ALL be eating Gran's homemade soup was issued.

Predictably, lunchtime was an event that the 3 year decided was beneath him.

The first half of the afternoon was a battle of mental agility that would leave a chess master exhausted.

"No, no biscuits"

"If you're hungry, eat your soup" (aforementioned soup was still on the table in the optimistic hope that the 3 year old would eventually eat it)

"No, no bread sticks"

"No crisps"

"Eat your soup"

This then deteriorated into various ploys to tempt the 3 year old to eat his soup.

"Shall I heat it up and put it in a mug for you?" (this is usually a ploy that works, the novelty of eating soup from a mug overrides his stubborness)

"Shall I put the soup in your cup with the elephants?"

And finally in desperation "Shall I put the soup in mummy's special tea cup?"

*hollow laugh*

The soup remained uneaten.

I eventually caved and gave my little mind bending warrior some bread sticks and fruit. And a biscuit. (If he's hungry, he'll eat right?).

Before I knew it, dinnertime was looming. Chicken breasts cooked in breadcrumbs, mashed potatoes and peas. Nothing controversial. Nothing that should offend any mini gastronomic experts.

Wrong.

40 minutes of cajoling, pleading and eventually threatening with immediate bedtime produced consumption of 3 pieces of chicken and a spoonful of mashed potato. The peas were deemed too offensive to even be on his plate.

And now I'm exhausted.

We've been spoiled you see. My eldest was a dream when it came to food. He would try anything and eat everything. He's one of those children that has 'hollow legs' and eats staggering amounts of food. Even age 2, when we went on holiday in France, he tried every type of wild boar sausage and heavily seasoned with garlic morsel he could lay his hands on as we wandered around a rural farmers market.

The 3 year old is an entirely different kettle of fish. He's stubborn and wilful, determined and well...just 3 I guess. Deep down I know he's just being a typical threenager. His testing of limits is entirely normal and the epic tantrums are usually rooted in either tiredness or hunger. But oh my word, I wish I had more tactics in my parental armoury to deal with him. Some days I feel like I've completely forgotten how to parent a threenager. I'd (stupidly, naively) thought it would be easier 2nd time round. But it's just a phase, right? They're not three forever and just when I feel like I've reached the end of my ever shortening tether, he transforms into the angel I see before me now. His faces lights up when he sees me, he tells me he misses me just before he falls asleep each night (he's confused the words miss and love bizarrely I think) and he seeks out my hand for a reassuring squeeze when we meet new people. He's still just a baby really. My baby.

I just wish he'd sit at the blasted table and eat dinner with us consistently!