"I want to tuck him into your bed," he informed me, sweetly.
"Ummm....I think bugs like windowsills better," I quickly diverted.
"Maybe he wants to be safe in my bean bag?"
And thus the poor little bug was "snuggled" into a fold of the bean bag. May he rest in peace.
The day before we had been to see "Frozen".
We needed to get out, but I was sick and wanted to go somewhere no one would be able to see my unwashed hair. He seemed to enjoy the movie. He told me he didn't like it, mind you, but he still wanted to talk about Elsa and Anna at bedtime that night, so it must have made some impression.
It was a good date...until he wanted to stay in the movie theater lobby. All afternoon.
I humored him for about 20 minutes, thinking "this is a silly whim that will pass". But when three other movies let out and he was still walking around the benches, I was like, "OK, I'm going home now."
I put on his coat; he took it off. I carried him to the car; he angrily told me he wanted to go back inside so that he could put his coat on. I told him he could put his coat on in the car; he screamed at me, "Nooooo, I waaana do it in the mooo-vie theater."
He's too big for me to wrestle into the car seat, so we sat in the car in the parking lot. Eventually, he crawled into the front seat and sobbed on my chest until at last he was cried out and asked if we could go home. I'm not gonna lie, I might have sobbed a little somewhere in there, too.
This, so far, is life with a three year old. Completely charming one day, complete mess the next. To be fair, we've both been battling respiratory crap and ear infections--which amplifies everything--but I feel safe in saying this is one of the more challenging stages of parenting we have yet to face.
But then, just when I feel like I'm at my wits end....he brings me a half-dead bug or he helps me measure flour for cupcakes or his dada teaches him to pee on a tree and I get to laugh at them being "manly-men"....and I'm charmed and it's all forgiven.