I genuinely adore being the parent of a lively 3-year-old. Yes, I just typed that without a hint of irony, and I stand by my words—most days, anyway. Let me elaborate.
Just a few weeks ago, my daughter, Mia, celebrated her third birthday. Now, when anyone asks her age, she proudly holds up the correct number of fingers and confidently declares, “I’m free years old!” This delightful little whirlwind frequently experiences what my wife and I have dubbed “The Fire.” With just a shared look, we know it’s time to prepare for chaos.
When The Fire engulfs Mia, all bets are off: we quickly usher our dog out of harm’s way, grab her baby brother, and remove anything throwable within reach. What follows is an intense episode of her wild antics—hitting, throwing, and even belting out songs from Frozen, all while laughing and sobbing in equal measure. It’s a storm of emotion that seems to last an eternity.
This behavior has been a constant for a while, long before she hit the big 3, so I was skeptical that a simple birthday could ignite even more chaos. After all, how arbitrary is it to assign behavioral milestones based on a solar calendar for someone so new to this world? The realization hit me during a particularly grueling, no-preschool, 36-hour day (though it felt like an eternity) while I was on paternity leave with my newborn son, Leo. It was scorching outside, and I quickly understood that my 3-year-old was determined to test my limits.
If you’re a parent of a threenager or have survived one, you’ve likely heard the phrase “the terrible twos” tossed around. However, many of us know that the real challenges—and the real joys—come at age three. “They’re little tyrants,” you might say, describing these pint-sized beings who thrive on chaos and defy normalcy at every turn. Threenagers seem to possess a supercharged ability to provoke adults, especially in stressful situations.
In hindsight, I might have underestimated the challenge. As Mia approached her third birthday, she was already bold, fearless, and eager to push boundaries. She began speaking early and hasn’t stopped since. Her inventiveness with language is impressive, but it can also be overwhelming—sometimes, I just wish for a moment of silence!
Mia checks several boxes on the “difficult child” checklist: she’s temperamental, defiant, and occasionally downright mischievous. Here are a few memorable moments:
- During her baby brother’s first solid food experience, when we were preoccupied, she suddenly shrieked, “Who wants butter?” and promptly smeared it on her hands before devouring it.
- After a fit of emotions, she slammed her door and declared, “I am Mia, and you are my family!” followed by “I am Moana!”
- She sobbed when her puppet friend, Benny the Raccoon, couldn’t join her for preschool, insisting we engage in puppet play at all hours.
- After refusing to eat a bowl of beans, she threw them on the floor. When we asked her to clean up, she crawled on all fours, picked up every bean (dog hair included), and triumphantly ate them while belching and spitting as a sign of victory.
So how did I gradually come to embrace this age? Let’s call it “The Flip Side.” While we often focus on The Fire, there are countless moments that leave me in awe. Mia reminds us to blink during movies, affectionately refers to us as “you guys” or “my people,” and has an uncanny ability to console her crying brother. She even tells me, “Papa, my poop was so big, and you’re proud, right?”
I find joy in her fierce love for family and friends, her boundless energy from dawn till dusk, and her imaginative play. She has a delightful fear of driving on “the freezeway,” and she often holds my hand, saying, “Papa, I was tinking today. I love my Papa.”
Yes, I cherish The Flip Side, and it only gets better. If it balances out The Fire, I think I’ll manage just fine. Those chaotic moments—the butter, the beans, and the puppets—are already cherished memories, and I do love having a “free-yur-yold.”
But seriously, what’s up with the term “terrible twos”? Is it just a generational misunderstanding, a clerical error, or perhaps a catchy phrase that stuck? It seems odd that we’d dismiss the challenges of three-year-olds simply because we’ve labeled two-year-olds as difficult. Yet sometimes, a little shortsightedness helps us survive the parenting journey, and I’m definitely using it right now.
I love parenting a 3-year-old. Just check back with me in a few months to see if I’m still standing.
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Summary:
Parenting a threenager is a wild ride filled with memorable chaos and unexpected joy. While “The Fire” brings challenges, “The Flip Side” offers heartwarming moments that make the journey worthwhile. With a blend of love, laughter, and the occasional chaos, embracing this age can be a delightful experience.