3 is the new 13
Ruby is equal parts sugar and spice, piss and vinegar these days. She’s certainly got a mind of her own, which is what we all want for our children…eventually! But not now! Right now, while she’s my captive audience and is free of peer pressure and bad influence and the ability to sell her virginity for top dollar, I want her to submit completely to my will. I want her to obey and listen to me while she’s malleable, so that later when she truly thinks I know nothing, she’ll at least be armed with good decision-making tools when faced with peer pressure and bad influence. She’ll also know better than to sell herself to the highest bidder. I guarantee it.
Lately, though, I’m getting terrifying glimpses of what the teenage years hold. The child is regularly offering me her furrowed brow and a stink-eye so precise and intimidating that I sometimes wonder if she isn’t practicing it when I’m not around. In the last two weeks I’ve been on the receiving end of more leave me alones! and don’t talk to mes! and don’t! kiss! mes! and i said i don’t have to gos! than any parent should legally be required to endure. It’s my theory that the sole purpose of year three is to offer parents a training session for what’s coming. Consider it the Parental Pull-Up. Consider it dress rehearsal. My reaction to her poor attitude hasn’t always been appropriate; it’s safe to say that I could use an understudy for this warm-up routine, which doesn’t bode well.
The other night, I was buckling Ruby into her car seat and chatting with Sam about our day as we were heading home from dinner. I have no idea what we were discussing but Ruby interjected with a loud and drawn out, “Haaaaaaaaail NO!” I fell apart with laughter, then pulled it together and asked her in serious mom voice, where she learned that.
She stuck her thumb in her mouth and turned her face from mine in defiance.
“Ruby, tell me where you learned to say that.”
“Haaaaaaaaail NO!” she said again.
And the girl meant it.
She’s serious business. And I’m in serious trouble.
A-FRICKIN-MEN! Oh, V is giving me fits with her attitude. Mom always said she hoped I had a daughter just like me. I didn’t realize at the time exactly what that meant….
Wait till you have to teach her to drive…..
(that’s the nightmare I’m living right now with my oldest.)
oh, i’m sorry. you’re screwed.
From the little time I spent with her, I feel justified in saying that Ruby is confident and (my prayers are with you)articulate. It won’t be long before she can (logically) argue you into a frenzied exhaustion.
And to this I say: haaiiillll yes!
I adore firecrackers…we’ll discuss survival stategies soon.
Oh, honey, you do well to contemplate and prepare for the Future. I taught Montessori kdg. for 23 years, and I never forgot one particular Inservice. Whoever was leading it (some expert or other; I taught in an expensive school, so we got to listen to The Best), said:
“You know how kindergartners are all In Love with each other?”
(It’s true. Spring with kindergartners is a series of weddings behind the Big Climber)
“Well”, he said, “Then they go into that period where The Boys Hate the Girls and the Girls Hate the Boys, you know – 1st through 4th or 5th grade. But then – THEN comes puberty. And they pick up right where they left off. Emotionally, Socially, Temperamentally – Everything”.
So Be Prepared. It looks to this ex-teacher as though you’ve got a Girl who’s ahead of the curve. As at 3, so at…13. You’ll get a break, but then the 3 year old Will Be Back.
Oh, Kate stole my comment. You are royally screwed.
You are so totally hosed. But in a good way. You might as well enjoy the ride because you can’t get exit the tram while in motion.
that is hysterical!
OK, I’ve got boys. Maybe there’s a difference? With the older one, three was much harder than thirteen.
I think Ruby and Marley are secretly communicating strategies, because we’re getting the same ‘tude around here.
And I could be wrong, but isn’t “Haaaail NO!” something I’ve heard out of Sam’s cakehole on more than one occasion…?
oh lord.
I’m laughing though- how funny that must have been! And scary…That pic is perfect for this post. Good times.
It is a fun story to laugh at when you are not on the receiving end. And the picture is awesome.
PS – my 2.5 year old has learned (from someone…hmmm) the F bomb and uses it appropriately. We try not to laugh or make a big deal of it, but when she captures the mood just at the right time it is hard not to! Ahh…these little sponges!
For Christmas, my dad got my nearly-13-year-old sister a sweatshirt that says, “Cute but evil. Things even out.”
Not saying this to discourage you, but Briget is right and I wish someone had told ME. When you get through this in one piece (you will) remember everything you’ve learned. Don’t be lulled when this storm passes (it will). You’re going to need it all again in her teens.
Oh my, you’re definitely in for it. I laughed out loud picturing that sweet little face. That which does not kill us makes us stronger and all that BS. You’ll do fine, I have a feeling you can hold your own!
ha. i hear you. kiki plays us like hendrix.
Someday you’ll be proud to have a strong-willed, independent girl that does not bow to pressure. But yes, the journey is wearying.
Oh I am right there with you, although my guy is only 2. I have caught him practicing crying in the mirror. He does it at school too. I have heard 3 is worse. Lordy help us all. I LUV the picture.
I love, love, LOVE this picture. LOVE IT.