For the Love of God…

Don’t get me wrong, my Gig as a Mommy is pretty sweet.  But how come no one talks about the terrible threes?  I mean, everyone talks about how hard having a newborn is because of nursing, sleepless nights and raging hormones.  Everyone also talks about the tantrums associated with the terrible twos.  But hell, no one ever talks about the unbearably horrid threes.  In my opinion, threes can be the most challenging, mainly because three year olds are little hormonal teenagers trapped in a small body, waiting to snap or embarrass you at any moment.  Oh and did I mention they always think they're right? So, I have dubbed year “three” as the “For the love of God years.”

For the love of God, child-

I do not wish to run to the bathroom every time you yell, “Mom, I’m done,” only to find you standing, facing the toilet, pants on the ground chuckling “just kidding,” as you start to pee again (mostly in the toilet). I get that you just learned how to control your starting and stopping times when you urinate, but come on you can only be impressed with this for a few times before it starts to become seriously annoying. Although, on a strange level I am proud of him and his newly developed skills, but seriously buddy, some accomplishments should be kept to yourself.

For the love of God, child-

It’s not a little known fact that I don’t enjoy you sprinting across the room, lunging onto my lap and letting out a gigantic fart then running away leaving the smell of feces lingering in the air for all to enjoy.  Way to keep it classy.

For the love of God, child-

Please stop making puking noises after you take a bit of anything that I have cooked. I get that I’m no Rachel Ray, but your distasteful gestures are starting to kill my kitchen self-esteem.

For the love of God, child-

I didn't know that you wanted your peanut butter and jelly sandwich to have-bread, jelly, peanut butter, and then bread- in that order.  Oh wait, I found it out after I made the sandwich because you screamed in disgust at the top of your lungs and refused to eat it.  And for the love of God, child, flipping the sandwich upside down would, in fact, solve the problem.  Who’s right now?

For the love of God, this was just today…  

And this is what I get when I ask my child to let me take a picture of him wearing his Burger King crown....