Ugh. Three is so hard. The emotions are so big. Extreme utter excitement and zest for life demonstrated through simultaneous jumping and running around accompanied by ecstatic squeals. (Was that sentence exhausting? Try being around a three year old 24/7.) Or there are crazy debilitating tantrums over seemingly nothing, except for apparently what seems like nothing to me is actually the most important thing ever to him. Really important things like me putting his cereal in a green bowl when I should have read his mind that he wanted orange. If only I could read minds.
The constant questions of why.
The pushing every boundary.
Yet, he needs more cuddles these days. More I love yous. He doesn’t want to sleep in his room alone.
And it turns out, I guess I am kind of like a three year old, too.
Lately, I, too, have experienced an extreme range of emotions. I have a hard time taking deep breaths and being present. I have a lot of whys floating around my mind and have a need for answers. I need a lot of cuddles and I love yous and a constant reassurance that I am loved.
But, three is so freaking hard and exhausting.
What makes it better for him? Adventuring together. Being outside. Fresh air. Movement. Love. Touch. A safe space to discover who he is.
Turns out I need those same things.
And so we spur each other on to try to be our best selves. We fail often. Multiple times a day. Yet we still come back to each other with unconditional love. And we grow.
And truly, I could not love him more.
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