Have you recently found yourself delighted at the prospect of going to an allergy office to be stuck by needles several times because you have the opportunity to get those pokes all by your lonesome? Do you feel stuck in a loop a la Groundhog’s Day, except instead of trying to make it to February 3, you’re trying in vain to keep food off your floors and walls? Are you rapidly losing your hair (because you’re pulling it out)?
You might have an Almost-three.
Almost-threes are a particular breed of child that can “be starving” but also “don’t want to eat that.” Almost-threes often speak in high pitched screeches that rival the decibel level of a jet engine. They love avenging self-declared grevious wrongs, unfolding perfectly matched pairs of socks, and requiring an emergency bathroom at inopportune times. Oh, Almost-threes have their sweet qualities: for one, their little half-baby faces look positively adorable scrunched up into anger. The first time, anyway. And maybe some Almost-threes say “barret feet” instead of “bare feet” or “wass” instead of “water,” and that’s just crazy sweet.
But let’s be honest with ourselves: we’ve all heard “terrible twos.” We’ve heard “three-nager.” While each child will have a different journey toward reaching their maximum jerk potential, I urge you to consider the oft-overlooked Almost-three. Don’t let them sneak up on you. You’ll probably end up wet as a result (don’t ask what the wet is, it’s better not to know).
So how do you identify an Almost-three? Here are some handy things to look out for.
An Almost-three has successfully completed two journeys around the sun but has not yet completed a third.
An Almost-three simultaneously wants to “play with mama” and “no play with mama.”
Note: “Play with mama” usually means either a) physically abusing mama, b) asking for a snack, or c) making a pile of all of your puzzle pieces and immediately saying “all done.” “No play with mama” usually means your Almost-three is peeing somewhere there should certainly not be pee.
An Almost-three switches moods almost instantly.
And there are ways to work with this. “Suggest” your child take a nap because he seems sleepy. When he doth protest too much, say, “or just play nice with mama and we’ll get a snack later!” That snack may be carrots. That’s future-you’s problem.
This leads us to the Question of the Universe: WHY IS YOUR ALMOST-THREE THIS INSANE NIGHTMARE?
I have a theory, but note: this theory works really well with my current situation as a stay-at-home-mom. If you’re in a different situation but are also experiencing signs and symptoms of having an Almost-three, let me know your specifics and I will come up with a tailor made theory just for you.
As a stay-at-home-mom, I firmly believe that the Almost-three appears about six months (give or take) before you would send your little goldfish-guzzler to preschool or threeschool. Three-year-old preschool is not a requirement of any kind. Truth be told, four year old preschool isn’t either, but then you can use the reasoning of preparing for kindergarten.
But preschool for three-year-olds — especially three-year-olds that, say, don’t get out much (WE TRY OK; jk, I mean the ones that don’t go to a regular daycare) is so good. The three-year-old learns how to become a contributing member of a group. He learns to follow a somewhat regular routine. He learns that his teacher is someone to respect; he learns what respect is (in an ideal world, but hey, bear with me).
But here’s the deal. Sometimes, when my Almost-three is asleep at night (and bonus points if he’s actually kept his pajamas and nighttime pull-up on), sometimes I look at him. I watch his tiny chest rise and fall and tear up in a sentimental way. I think, maybe you don’t need preschool this year?
And then he’ll wake up and dump a bottle of glue on his hands and I’ll say SIGN HIM UP NOW!
Almost-threes are God’s way of letting us know our littles are ready for preschool. Oh sure, we’ll cry and take a million pictures on that first day, but then we’ll drive to Starbucks alone, and we’ll smile, and we’ll think maybe I should have another baby? And then we’ll sip our coffee, remove oatmeal from our hair, and we’ll think NOPE.