While skipping out of the building and seeing the clouds shift, the sunlight heat began to beat upon my face. Closing my eyes and smelling the sweet freshly cut grass, I hear an abrupt, ‘I win sucker’, come from my 3-year-olds mouth. My eyes opened and my skip stopped. I look down to see my son’s tongue sticking out. You would never guess he’s the last of 6 children. HA!
I’m still holding his hand as we bend over and say ‘good game’ with a bit of intent to counteract his competitiveness. We continue to walk to the edge of the parking lot and stop, as I preemptively look both ways and give him the go ahead, he begins to whine and tell me ‘I want to do it’. I rewind my steps and allow him to safely look both ways. Proud mom moment of how big he’s getting, the initiative he shows, and independence. I quickly regret the feeling as we get closer to the van, and I open the door, to hear the inevitable whine again, ‘No, Saiah do it!”.
"No, Saiah do it!"
So, I shut the door again and allow him the opportunity to ‘open’ the door. ‘Open’ as in, wait for the perfect number of attempts, not too many and not too little, before I slip in and quickly open the door before a meltdown begins or I cause the meltdown.
Think we’re about done?
Any parents out there know what's coming next? Yep, I bet you do! Since he is three, we have him in a 5-point harness car seat. (PSSST. Unsure of car seat rules for Washinton, check it out here.) I go to pick him up and place him in the car seat. ERRRNT! I attempt to quickly put his arms in the strap. ERRRNT! Chest Buckle? ERRRNT! Harness Buckle? ERRNT! Finally giving in, I stand and watch, impatiently, knowing I have other kids to pick up from 3 other schools. As I am standing there, waiting for the slow as a slug preschooler to achieve the impossible, I feel the sunlight beam down again. Only to be interrupted again by an abrupt whine. ‘MOM, help me!’. The emotional state goes from 0-60 in 3 seconds. I quickly stepped in for the assist! YES! He’s in and ready to go! I give a huge sigh of relief as the hard work is done! I shut the door and turned for mine. ERRRRNT!
EEERNT!
What now!’ I thought. Holy Moly Mother of Cheese Its! I open the door, wipe his tears, hug him, breathe deep to model calming emotional techniques, then say, ‘Alright buddy, it’s your turn to shut the door, Mommy forgot, I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings’. He smiles, says ‘It’s ok, I love you.’ And pushes the button of the automatic van door. As the door moves like a slow-motion action movie explosion, I stand and sigh again. I remember all the difficult moments in life where we lost pregnancies at 8 weeks, 11 weeks, and more. That time we gave up trying, as we thought chemotherapy had taken my last chance at a baby. I smile and remind myself to be thankful. I show up to the next school late, with my 10-year-olds asking, ‘Where were you? What took you so long?’ questions line up.
Yes, we finally arrived home. I sit down to right my blog…. And well, this is all we have time for. Welcome to parenting. I hope you enjoyed this very real story and please, share and follow it if you have ever been ERRRNT’d by a 3-year-old or can relate to any part of this story. Learn more about Peninsula College Early Childhood Education Center, they are Isaiah approved.
See you all next time,
Nic’s Knack (with the help of Isaiah)
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