Sometimes I'm convinced that an alien space demon has come down and possessed my child's three-year-old body. Although other conversations with moms of three-year-old's have assured me that this is, for the most part, a fairly normal thing to experience, sometimes, after a particularly hearty emotional moment, or after I ask him to turn down the volume on what he's watching and he replies with, "Sorry I can't. I'm working", I'm almost just as assured that the threes were designed as one massive year-long mom test. Just to see if I'm even remotely capable of getting into heaven.
Then other times, the sass fests blur into the background, and this wonderful, shining human, full of awesomeness and potential reminds me that it's totally going to work out, and he's going to grow up to be a really good, really independently-minded kid and a totally respectable adult who will visit his parents frequently and remember to call on Mother's Day, promise.
Like, for example, when he wakes up first thing in the morning, leans over and asks, "Mama? Are you feeling happy?" I don't answer, because I'm sleeping. He then slings his body over mine and whispers fiercely and reassuringly into my neck, "It's OK to have feelings."
Or when he, again, wakes up first thing in the morning, and while still rubbing his eyes, whispers into the dark, "I'm hungry for Buffalo Wild Wings."
When I get food poisoning at some ridiculous morning hour and he follows me into the bathroom to rub my hunched over back, and tell me that it's OK, and he can go get a bucket for me if I want him to.
And when he's playing quietly with his toys and suddenly bursts out with, "I LOVE HUMAN THINGSSSS!" Or on a different occasion, between crashing his cars together, softly mumbles to himself, "We live in the world. This is our sweet home."
When he names the large head in his play-doh kit, Bill Murray.
When he asks me to sing him a Flo Rida song before bed. (Questionable Parenting Moments 101)
When he leaves his group of playmates, to burst into the room of women where I'm talking, smash me with a hug and announce, "I was missing you!"
And when I tuck him under the covers and kiss him with a, "goodnight sweet boy" and he whispers back into the dark, "goodnight sweet mama."
I take it back. I totally love the threes.