Terrible Twos?

The terrible twos. This is a well-known phrase, and I now have enough experience to understand its existence. What I don't get is why there is no such phrase to denote the threes which, in my experience with Edward, are far worse. "The throttling threes?" "The thoroughly-rotten threes?" Two-year-old Edward had occasional melt-downs, and threw the occasional fit, but was mostly pleasant. Three-year-old Edward has made me question my sanity and reasons for living. Three-year-old Edward is why I think I'm done having children.

Although I have no qualms about posting all the humiliatingly adorable things my boys do on this blog to haunt them throughout their adult lives (mwah hah hah hah!), I have tried not to be too negative in my portrayal of the Floofs. This may, then, be the only time I will directly state how exhaustingly cranky, whiny, teary, confrontational, and even belligerent Edward has been for about a year now. You've had small hints: (i.e., "no you don't love me!"), but they did not fully demonstrate the extent of the problem.

Par example, a couple of months ago as I was cutting Joseph's hair, Edward was not happy with the results: "I don't like that haircut." I sighed in agreement: "I know. It's not the best haircut I've ever given, is it Floof?" Edward, not convinced that I understood the depth of his distaste, said: "I don't think I can love Daddy with that haircut."

This reaction, dear readers, was typical of Edward in one of his (rare) good moods.

So my energetic but pleasant 18-month-old Edskers morphed into my sometimes reasonable, sometimes irrational two-year-old Edskers, and then devolved into my foul-mooded, foul-mouthed three-year-old Edskers. But the story, thank goodness, does not end there.

About a month ago, practically overnight, Edward's attitude changed again. Now Edward walks on the sunny side of the street. Blue skies are smiling at him. Every cloud has a silver lining with this guy now.

"Oh, Robert! You are such a good boy!"

"Mommy? I love you sooooooo much!"

"Mmm! I love pizza! It's my favorite!"

"Mommy! Robert spilled his milk all over the floor very well! ...Oh! Look at that spot [of milk]! That one's my favorite!"

"Oh, Mom! You got me beef stew? Thank you so much! I love beef stew!" (His great love notwithstanding, it should be noted that he still refused to eat it. Still, his gratitude makes a surprising difference.)

Really, I don't even recognize him anymore. He's a new Floof altogether -- and I am not complaining.

My normally sweet-natured, positive Robert, on the other hand, has in the same month become whiny and tantrummy. Is he teething? Sick? Having a growth spurt? Allergic to being potty trained? Do the parenting gods only allow one good-tempered child in a family at a time? I'm not sure what the reasons are for his constant screaming these days. However, with a gloom that deepens as Edward's spirits rise, I am beginning to suspect what it is.

The terrible twos.

*Sigh*

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Unrelated pictures, for those who want them: