Whenever someone asks me how old my son is and I tell them he's 3 years old, they almost always say, "That's such a fun age." They can only say that with a straight face, because they don't have a 3-year-old living with them.
I'm pretty sure I like 2 years old better than 3. Back then, we weren't terribly concerned about his not wanting to go through potty training. Now, it's a constant stand-off between us and him regarding everything from potty training to eating his dinner to picking up his toys to leaving any given store without getting a treat.
That's one of those parenting things that's backfired on us. If he's good and sits in the cart at Target or the grocery store, then he can pick a toy from the dollar bins or get a cookie from the bakery. Now, every time we go into any store, he thinks he's entitled to a treat. So, we argue with him half the time when we leave, because he's begging for a treat.
Sometimes, when people ask me how he's doing, I simply say, "Well, he's 3." For anyone who's ever had a 3-year-old son, they know exactly what I'm talking about without elaboration.
I know he's at an age where he's trying to assert his independence at home. I just wish he'd do it independently, without needing mine or my husband's attention to validate he's status. At this point, I can't wait until he turns 4.
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