Monday, July 27, 2009

Terrible Two's Ain't Got Nothin' on the Three's

I'm convinced that the person who coined the term terrible two's simply auctioned their child off on eBay before their 3rd birthday. Why? Because the three's are HORRIBLE! 10 times worse than the two's.

The Bi-polar, Suicidal, Screaming, Maniacal (if that's a word), Melt-Down, Shoot-me-NOW, Three's

This afternoon, Carson's second dentist appointment was a disaster. (Reminder, first one was amazingly perfect and easy).

Picture me, 8+ months pregnant, sweating dripping down my body, squished into the dental chair with Carson. Because he refused to open his mouth without me.

Sweet, patient, Debbie got 3 teeth (out of 20) cleaned and the jaw clenched shut. It would not open with threats, bribes, or sheer force. The dentist came over to do his check and Carson was a perfect gentleman.

Then Debbie tried to finish up. It turned into "strip dental work" as she bargained with Carson and took off her mask and gown to try to be a "normal" looking person instead of an uber-scary dental hygenist. I was scared for all of us if that game continued. So then we started negotiating with toys.

It ended badly with Mommy and Debbie telling screaming, crying Carson that he lost his "toy box" priviledge because he wouldn't let her finish. That just caused the screaming to increase and intensify.

I made the rookie mistake of bargaining not only the dentist office toy reward but also the pre-planned trip to Toys R Us to exchange one of his birthday presents. So then I was stumped. I'd just told him he couldn't go to the toy store but when was I going to get the opportunity again?

For better or worse, I made him a deal (once he stopped sobbing long enough for me to get a word in edge-wise). We would still go to Toys R Us for the exchange but he couldn't open his new toys until after swim class.

See prior post for disasterous results of last week's swim class. I was terrified of a repeat. I was willing to do whatever it took to keep his bi-polar swing in the positive direction.

Due to 102 degree heat and my car's dead A/C (getting re-charged for this preggo at 8 am tomorrow morning), we spent the next hour killing time at Toys R Us.

All was well until he wouldn't get out of the Bob the Builder ride to give someone else a turn. He stuck his tounge at me ..... oh yes, Nana, I totally blame that on you :-) The bi-polar swing violently hurtled back into the screaming, crying melt-down direction.

With swim class looming, my fears building, and the inside of the car now 112 degrees, we left Toys R Us with me dragging a limp noodle child out by one arm, size 8 Crocs leaving skid marks on the concrete.

I texted Daddy a "steel yourself, it's REAL bad" message, thought briefly about the going value of a blond haired, blue eyed, dimpled 3 year old on eBay, and then tried to put on a smile.

Burger King drive-thru (again, please read prior post for the tragedy of the last trip through BK) for a Happy Meal. There must be a DO NOT PISS OFF THIS PREGGO sign on my front license plate now because the $3.39 kid's meal was still $3.39 even though I got milk!!! Go freaking figure!!

I'll stop rambling to tell you that swim class was just gut-wrenching AGAIN. I stayed behind the air conditioned glass partion, Daddy got tenser and redder with each NOOOO from Carson. Goggles would not stay on. He actually covered his eyes this time so the teacher couldn't put them on. Nice.

I mouthed the words "Let It Go" through the glass because clearly our strategy of threats was not working. Nor was bribery. I wanted to just leave it up to the teacher.

Finally the excruitating lesson was over. I tried vainly to read the teacher's lips as she spoke with Daddy after class. The gist of it was that he is a normal 3 year old boy and we should stop worrying and let her take care of him.

Funny thing, just 5 days ago, our pediatrician delivered the devastating news that 3 is waaay worse than 2.

So hopefully we make it through the next 3, 6, 9 months? Carson's terrible two's lasted about 5-6 months.

Speaking of his 3 year check-up, Carson is 35.5 pounds and 39.5 inches tall which puts him in the 85th and 89th percentiles. Everything else was good. He is a lifetime member of the Mirilax club. Thank God they sell it at Costco.

The dentist is concerned about his bite. I can hear the cha-ching of braces and head-gear now.

And as for me, 102 degrees does NOT agree with me. There are a few items on my "I never will" list. Mini-van is #1 and a mu-mu is somewhere in the top five.

I am on my way to Old Navy and Target tomorrow to find the cutest mu-mu I can. In this weather, I do NOT want to wear a bra. However, I do not want to not wear wear a bra because my boobs are now resting on my shelf of a belly. The sweat created by this connection is just plain awful.

I might have to hit up McD's cone and a Starbucks Frappachino tomorrow!!!

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