Oh, how I find irony in writing this post about loving age three on the same night that my little girl had meltdowns of epic proportions through most of the evening.
But, on I go.
In general, I have found age three much less trying than age two. The Terrible Twos began early (around 18 months) and ended a few months before her third birthday. While some people warned me: "Watch out, Three is much worse", I have to say that has happily not been the case here.
Reason #202 why I love age three are conversations like the ones below:
Rosie on the way home from picking up pizza with me: "I've decided I do want to be a mama! But, just one kid. No babies."
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Yesterday she was relating to me all the tricks the leprechaun had played in her classroom (he turned the milk green, and the water in the potty green).
R: "Did the leprechaun come here? Did he play any tricks?"
I quickly hold up a green bowl in arm's reach at the table. "This! He turned this green!" I say.
Rosie frowns. "Mama, that bowl is painted green."
Me: "I know! The leprechaun did it!"
R: "No, mom. Leprechauns have magic, not paint!"
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Seriously, these conversations make my day. She is very sure about so many things- it cracks me up! Currently loving age three (despite tonight's drama saga) and all the honesty (although sometimes cringe-worthy) and curiosity that comes with it. While she may not "need" me as much as she did as when she was a baby, I love that I can have such fun conversations with my little lady.
It's magical.
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