If somebody could figure out a magic formula for unlocking the secrets of the toddler brain, they'd undoubtedly make a fortune. We are slogging through some Terrible Threes lately, with the Peanut suddenly careening from a (relatively) reasonable mood to a screeching horror show in 10 seconds or less. She becomes enraged over minor things, throws fits if we don't understand her cryptic requests ("I want the white thing with the yellow things on it!! I WANT IT! I WANT IT!") and, perhaps most frustrating of all, changes her mind every two to three minutes. She wants pancakes. Then she wants a bagel. Then the bagel is the most disgusting thing she's ever seen.
There was a cartoon in the paper yesterday that showed a man and a woman heading out their front door with several suitcases, while a small boy stood nearby. The father was holding a bag full of cash out to a young woman and saying, "Jenny, at your normal babysitting rate, this should cover us for two years."
This weekend was that kind of weekend. The kind of Toddler Terror Experience that makes you wonder whether there are any boarding schools for 3-year-olds, perhaps in France.
I just wish I knew what was going on in that little head. Thankfully this morning, after a solid night's sleep, relative calm was restored. And on the ride in to school she even said, I swear, this:
"Mommy, when I'm big, I'm gonna feel different. That happens."
Yes indeedy, you will feel different. You and your parents too.