A Three Year Old

My little Lilli is not so little these days.  She has turned a whopping 3 years old and has the attitude to match.  "I can do it" is the current mantra. I cherish this fierce independence and encourage it, but find that I can never seem to get it quite right!  Though I am sure this will never change and I should better become accustomed to this now.  I suggest she puts her shoes on and she whines for me to do it.  I automatically help her wash her hands and find myself rudely pushed away.  My kisses and cuddles are rejected or rescheduled.  "You can kiss me after quiet time" I'm told.  Or "only kiss my leg" I'm admonished when I move in to plant a smacker on her lips.  Not long into her threes Lilli developed a water-shooting super-hero persona who fiercely brandishes various sticks at anyone and everything.  This aggressive streak continues when things don't go quite the way she planned and mother abuse is unfortunately quite common.  I'm pushed, smacked and kicked.  Yes, I am the dog.  Is this a common 3 year old trait?  Or is a reaction to the arrival of her baby sister, Amelia.  I suspect a little of both.

When she is not infuriated with sharing my attention, this super-hero is super helpful, kind, talkative, caring and sensitive.  Lilli is a master story teller and shares her stories with us at supper and in the bath.  They all seem to end with poop.  Her teddies and toys all have roles in her elaborate imaginary play carried out while sitting on the potty in front of her dolls house.  She relishes dirty talk.  She cackles loudly at her own jokes.  She prances naked around the living room to Tchaikovsky and cries with laughter when watching her wiggling bottom on video.  She is a riot and so much fun to be with.  So long as I'm not playing Thomas the Tank engine.  That has become a little old for me!

One of the wonderful things about spending time with a three year old is getting down to their level and seeing the world anew, though their curious eyes.  Why is a constant question and sometimes the most simple ones are the hardest to answer.  "Mummy, why is the moon white?" "Mummy, will I grow out of my skin?" During bedtime lullabies after minutes of silence, she will suddenly interrupt with a query that comes out of nowhere or relates to an incident that happened days or months ago.  "Mummy, when we move to a new house will I get a new bed?"  "Mummy, remember that picture on the wall of the bedroom?  In that house we stayed in with Granny."  She looks at the world in a very practical and logical way.  Her observations make perfect sense.  Such as the time when I was pregnant, she asked me to open my mouth wide and peered intently down my throat.  She told me she was trying to see the baby.

The other day I was driving home from the grocery store.  Just as I pulled out of the car park Lilli announced from her car seat:
"Mummy, you didn't remember the eggs!"
She was right.  I had forgotten the eggs, despite Jon's reminder earlier in the morning.  I was astounded that she remembered (a little late unfortunately!).
"Oh no!  You're right.  I did forgot the eggs.  Oh shoot.  Do you think Daddy will be angry with me?" or something along those lines ...
"Yes" she responded with glee!
"Do you think Daddy will shout at me?"
Giggling with delight and relish at my misfortune "Yes!"
As we push through the front door laden with shopping bags she rushes to tell her Daddy all about the forgotten eggs.