A simple weekend away turned in to a looong old game of it for us the other day, as the fifth piece of Ethan's belongings came flying over my seat in the car towards Adam and I whilst we were driving. That three hour car journey was my least favorite I've ever been on. Note to self - I must find yet more ways to entertain my boys on car journeys that last longer than half an hour!
I've called Ethan our little 'threenager' for a while now. Because, mostly they are at this age aren't they? I'm sure he thinks he knows the world and how to play the game of life already. It's sweet to watch in a way, you see your little one becoming more themselves as they go about discovering new pieces of what makes up life and our world. That independence and confidence is something that us parents want the most for them, but at this age and I guess up until the age of 18 (or more) it's a constant tug between independence and them learning that Mum and Dad really do know best.
It's the little things on a daily basis that form the foundations of the no listening game. Screaming at the dinner table despite being told to stop, screaming in the car, screaming in the garden, or in bed, lets just say screaming anywhere shall we?
It's being told not to throw, but continuing to do so. It's drawing on furniture (I'm sure he has a secret stash of pens somewhere!). It's jumping on the furniture and climbing, despite being warned about hurting yourself, but then doing so anyway. It's those little daily occurrences and all the billion more that that make up a list longer than space which all make up the no listening game.
When it comes to games, I won't life, I'm a competitive person, but boy do I seem to lose badly when it comes to this game. I play the role of the person that wants to be listened to and the times I am, it's a win, but these times feel somewhat rare at the moment. Ethan is the 'no listener' of course and this week he's on a roll. I'm sure starting a new pre-school and having his naps disrupted is playing a part in this.
They're funny at this age. Their little people who you just want to squeeze tightly. You couldn't be MORE proud of them and how fast they're picking things up and how well they're doing out in the big wide world. But then they have this little side to them that is a little bit crazy and makes you feel like having a three year old is exactly like using a blender without a lid on. But then no matter how much mess, chaos, disruption is caused, there isn't a part of you that would choose to have it any other way (well maybe no pens on furniture) and I guess that is what is to be a parent.
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