Let me give a summary of how just about every day with Thing 3 goes these days. He wakes up around 6:30am in a bad mood, crying for no particular reason until he has his cup of milk like a two-pack-a-day smoker has to have his first smoke.
It takes little to set him off on a tantrum and I can never predict what will set him off, but I can predict with near certainty there will be something that does. It could be the wrong color cup or cereal bowl. It could be the wrong show on tv. Or the wrong color shirt. Oh, I always ask which one he wants first but I now realize they are all the wrong ones. The tantrum is coming. And you can forget about even suggesting the “P” (potty) word to him or you’re in for a world of hurt.
At night, we have a similar ritual around bedtime. No matter what it’s always the wrong pajamas. Then he doesn’t want to brush his teeth or go to bed. So he bangs on the wall, throws books in his room, and his new favorite act of defiance spitting on the wall. This goes on for a good 30 minutes until we all exhaust ourselves.
I assumed the time in between these lovely bookends to my day went much the same. This is the time Thing 3 is at preschool. That is, until we got this note from his teacher:
Thing 3 “is such a delight to have in our classroom. He is very bright – sometimes silly and sometimes serious – a good combination. He is doing well at number recognition and we are practicing our letters. He now comes to us if he needs to go potty – sometimes it has already happened and sometimes we make it there on time!! He is very helpful in the classroom and a very caring, sharing young man!!”
Seriously, this is the same kid? Sure, I’ve seen glimpses of this model child but it’s completely surrounded by the crying, spitting, throwing, and terrorizing. I guess there is some reason for hope.