You guys. Hold onto your hats.
I thought my life was over when Peter learned how to crawl out of his crib.
He has now mastered the art of getting out of his car seat. ENTIRELY OUT. All buckles, all straps...he's out. And in.
This kid is so independent and strong willed you have to see it to believe it.
He must get the car keys, open the garage door, get in the car himself, buckle himself into his car seat, tell me which way to drive, tell me WHO is going to drive (mommy or daddy), gets out of his car seat, gets out of the car, goes into the mailbox house with the keys, opens the mail box, gets the mail, gets back into the car, puts himself into his car seat, continues to tell me where to drive, gets his bike out of the back of the car, rides to the ADULT BMX park, does his thing for an hour, loads his bike back into the car, gets in car seat, tells me where to drive, comes home, gets out frying pan, pulls stool next to stove, climbs stool, gets out PAM spray, sprays pan, gets eggs out of fridge, climbs back up stool, cracks egg into pan, adds salt and lid...waits for it to cook. Sets table, tells us which color of plates we get, tells us where to sit, puts dishes in sink when he thinks dinner should be over, stands on front porch and says hello to every single person who walks by and asks if they want to play with him....on and on and on.
I AM NOT EXAGGERATING!
It has been so exhausting to constantly hear, "NO! My turn, my turn!" while he climbs up stool, walks/balances across kitchen sink to cupboard to retrieve the exact sippy he wants, puts sippy spout stopper thing in, gets milk out, pours the milk, adds the chocolate milk powder with a specific spoon that he gets from the drawer, tightens lid, shakes it, and drinks....UGH!
"Don't spill...careful! Not too much. Good job. Ok, hold on...let me help you. Wait. Ok, all done. Good job."
I've had two thoughts: 1) Why do I bother trying to be his mom? Heck, I should just get up and go out and do my own thing and let the kid take care of himself.
2) Instead of "fighting" him on all of this, I'm trying to embrace and appreciate his fierce independence and let him do his own thing (within reason).
HE JUST TURNED THREE. He wants to vacuum (and I mean completely take over and vacuum) when I am doing so, he sweeps and uses the dust pan....
OH, and get this: He purposely says the wrong things and makes us agree with him so that he can correct us and be right. VIC MUCH???? He will point to a blue dinosaur and say, "Yellow dinosaur... yellow dinosaur..." "No, Peter, that's BLUE," "No...yellow!" "Yep, it's yellow..."
"NOOOO!!!! It's BLUE!" (in a sweet tone, thankfully)
He is now in his crib tent screaming at the top of his lungs for me. I put him in time out after throwing his preschool bag on the floor in a fit and hitting me.
Did I mention I painted the entire nursery by myself yesterday with a 15 ft. ladder? The WHOLE THING. And I raked and weeded our whole yard this morning.
Does the word exhaustion mean anything to you?
Great. So any ideas on the car seat thing???