I find myself in a quiet house with everyone sleeping but me so I am using my time, perhaps unwisely, to write this. As opposed to doing something actually useful, for instance, like housework.
At least twice recently, I have had the same conversation, which I open up with some version of this: “You choose your spouse, you do not choose your kids.”
Think about this. You pick the person you marry, Lord help you because you will need it, so when they start bothering you, you have no one to blame but yourself. You got yourself into this mess and now only you, God, and your spouse can deal with it. Your kids choose you, in a way, but you still have to live with them. God gives you those little bundles of joy. Eventually, those bundles become annoying 3 year olds.
Now, you all know I adore my sons, but Gideon is at times a loud, demanding, bossy, argumentative boy who Never. Shuts. Up. In a word, annoying. What is worse is that he is my personality trapped in a little three-year-old-boy body so I am really just getting irritated with a tiny version of ME.
Fortunately, I know how to deal with me, trapped in a little body, and I handle it well about 70%of the time. About 30% of the time, I am crazy mom lady, but he has to have something to tell his future psychologist.
The thing I like and hate most about this age is that he is so rational and has this huge imagination at the same time. He is amazing, like a sponge. Sometimes, he just stops what he is doing and says, “I love you, Mom.” After that I am a puddle on the floor and I know without qualification that I have the best life filled with three boys, one big and two small, that I adore.