3 Apr 2014

Three is the magic number...

Seriously it isn't! I was hoodwinked, led to believe that the terrible twos were the hardest part. Everyone mentions the twos but no one told me that three is so much harder.


I'm not sure if I just got lucky with the two's but we didn't really get many tantrums, never a public one and my girl could usually be talked around in most situations.

Three sucks - it really does and we are only about three weeks into it. My beautiful little best friend now seems to hate me and love me in equal measure. Before it was us against the world but now she shuns me, she will often refuse to cuddle me at bedtime or kiss me. She actively looks for an alternate and won't even look at me when she comes out of preschool. It's as if my mere presences is a huge disappointment to her and she always asks with hope in her voice "who are we going to meet now?"

I know this coincides with me being the size of a whale and unable to move as well as before. But it stings, she really stabs me in my weak hormonal heart most days and she knows she is doing it. She will argue a point with me and then sweetly conceed the exact same disagreement with anyone but me.

I've had a thrashing around tantrum in a cafe two weeks back. It's not easy to manhandle a three year old with this huge bump. All eyes were on us and it was because she wanted to see some ducks (& she was dressed as a crocodile at the time so we really stood out!). She was tired and fell asleep on the way home, I cried because it's not as easy to forget so easily.

At home daily she has a massive meltdown over small things such as putting her shoes on the wrong feet. She doesn't want my help but likes to take it out on me afterwards. She will do something she knows is wrong and then when I give disapproving looks or tell her off, she sweetly ask "are we still best friends?"

Life is soon to get harder and push us further apart when a more needy baby arrives. It's not something I'm looking forward to in the least.

Hubby recently compared me to Dylan - poor long suffering, scraggy Dyl.


He is loved, taken to bed every night and dribbled on. Yet he is the first to be discarded, stood on and left behind, without a backward glance. His legs are slightly baggy and his eyes look sad, he's seen better days...that's me, the human version, taken for granted and left behind unless she is ill. Then we both get a look in!
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