We have gone through the toddler years two times, and currently in the war zone of the third time. Our newly three year old terror has to be the “most toddler”.
The most screaming, the most “I wants”, the most tantrums, the most food throwing, the most finds the messiest substance possible and gets it all over the place toddler.
The limits we set for him, are stretched by his tiny hands like a giant rubberband. The kid has no shame, and laughs in my face when I tell him he can’t run around naked screaming at the cat.
His new favorite past time that makes me rip my hair out is putting EVERYTHING in his drinks. Last week poor Peppa Pig took a nosedive into a full glass of milk. I haven’t decided if I’m going trash her or not considering she was a birthday gift for the little stinker. Did I mention she’s a plushie? Its not just the pig that suffers, he picks his food apart, dips it in his cup, then sprinkles his brothers with bits of soggy nastiness.
Parenting this third little piggy is incredibly draining, but then he smiles at me with that cheeky little grin and I know he loves me the most.