You are three. And you've gotten really good at it.
I'd heard from lots of people that the "terrible twos" were a misnomer and that three year olds were the real challenge. I couldn't agree more.
That's not to say that I don't still love you with all of my heart or that we don't have good times together, because we do. It's just that those good times are usually squeezed in between you or I (or both of us) throwing a temper tantrum when we don't get our way. I keep trying to explain that mommy's the boss but it's taking you a little while to grasp that concept.
Over the past few weeks you've been testing out some new emotions, mostly mimicking what you've heard me say. For example, one of your favorite things to tell me is "I'm just not happy with you right now," accompanied by a scowl and crossed arms. You've also decided to try the crying thing when I drop you off at the gym or cooking class but I just don't believe you're actually upset.
Why don't I believe you? Because right now you are constantly wanting to play a role. Lately you've been me and I've been you or you've been Max and I've been Ruby or you've been Ariel and I've been "Ariel Mommy." Everyone around us has supporting roles: Daddy might be King Triton and Miller might be Flounder. I think Grammie is usually Sebastian. You also love to pretend that we are the Riley family. You're Tripp, I'm Miss Elizabeth, Miller is Baby Tate (or "my pet rabbit" which is what Tripp likes to call her) and Daddy is Mr. Wes. In fact, the other day, out of the blue, you saw Miller heading down the hall into Daddy's office and screamed "Miss Elizabeth! My pet rabbit is heading straight into Mr. Wes' office!" I admit it took me a second to decode that.
Grammie told me about something funny you did a couple weeks ago. You were being grumpy (surprise, surprise) so she said "Where's that sweet Emmylou? Where did my sweet, nice Emmylou go?" Your response: "She's in the back." Then a second later, "I'll go get her." You got up off the couch, walked down the hall and re-emerged all smiles and niceness. Too much.
More proof that you're figuring out this world of yours: you finally noticed that Emily and I look alike. Before, you always acted like we were crazy when we asked you if you thought we looked alike but last week Emily took her hair down and you cocked your head and said "why do you look like Mommy?" Oh, the wheels they are a-turnin'.
While it's been a great summer, I think you and I are both ready for you to start school again. Really ready. Problem is, we still have 27 days to go (but who's counting?). Surely we can make it and still be friends in the end, right, my love?
Hugs and kisses,