For the last several weeks, I have been running myself deep into the ground between writing obligations (aka my drive to finish my book by December), and potty training my youngest. It’s been potty training boot camp around here. Things have been intense.
Back in the day, I would have written up a little post summarizing just how this potty training experience has been going for us. Now? I will spare you the gory, unnecessary details and leave you with one thought: toddlers and teenagers are basically the same.
Toddlers are like teenagers. They don’t listen, they think that they are always right (and that their parents are terrible, horrible, no good very bad parents). When they don’t get their way, they have meltdowns and scream obscenities and slam doors. They throw things and cry big old alligator tears. They don’t do their own laundry, they make massive messes and refuse (or “forget”/become “too busy”) to clean them up. You also shouldn’t trust them with sharp objects or fire, so they don’t even cook either.
My youngest son is three. He is stubborn and determined. He is also incredibly intelligent. Each day, his vocabulary increases and his restlessness to see the world and do all things kicks in. He constantly wants to help (unless you ask him to pick up toys, then he suddenly has a case of selective hearing).
And sometimes, I forget that he’s just three. He is the master of manipulation, the king of throwing temper tantrums over ridiculous things. Today I watched him have a meltdown because I asked him to sit beside me and not on me, and I was struck with just how much he reminded of memories of my sisters when they were teens. (I never acted like that. I’ve always been perfect).
So, that’s how toddlers are like teenagers. Next week: how toddlers and teenagers are like pregnant women.