Ellis and the terrible threes

You have probably heard parents speak of the "terrible twos." In my house we know the twos are not so terrible - it is the threes you need to watch out for. The three year olds are terrible for a few different reasons:

• they realize they can say "no" to you an mean it
• they want to be independent
• they start to understand they have their own minds and can make their own decisions
• everything is funny - especially upsetting you
• they are big enough and heavy enough to use their bodies as weapons
• they assert their will over the stupidest things 

 Now, as the mom of three boys, you would think I would have conquered the "terrible threes" or at least come up with some great strategies to survive this overwhelming year of hell. I have, well at least I thought I had, until Ellis turned three.

You see every three year old approaches this year of terribleness with their own special twist. I was prepared to fight over getting dressed, eating, picking up the messes, etc. You know normal three year old stuff that kids battle their parents over. The problem is that Ellis doesn't really fight about any of these things (okay, part of this is because we offer him only five or six foods we actually know he will eat). We have learned the strategies of limited choices. Do you want to wear your Thomas or Buzz shoes? Blue shirt or green shirt? Pancakes or waffles? Clean up the blocks or the cars? This strategy usually works because the boss (three year old) feels like they have control.

Ellis can be easily persuaded when it comes to the normal battles.

His three year old antic is escaping the house and running away from us. Did I mention he is the quietest and sneakiest kid I have ever met? Now, thankfully we live on six acres, so his escaping doesn't put him in extreme danger of being hit by a car or kidnapped (not a danger we actually ever worried about), or the neighbors calling the police because an unattended three year old is running around the city.

The real problem is my pride. I feel like a terrible parent that he escapes without me noticing - and then when I do discover and find him (note he is usually down in the animal pen playing with the goats and chickens or on the play structure swinging away) he refuses to come to me. He runs (giggling and squealing) in the opposite direction.

We do pay attention to him, and the house is set up like Fort Knox - we have safety locks and back up locks on doors, but the little shit is too smart - he can open them (or drag a stool over to climb up and unlatch them) and then closes the door behind him before anyone even notices he is gone. Usually when we think he is absorbed in an activity, he has escaped the moment we turn our backs. It is exhausting being constantly worried about where he went this time, plus chasing him down the hill is a total pain. We should fence the immediate area around our house to help contain him, but we don't have the $500 for fencing that would cost. We have started punishing him when he goes out without supervision, but, honestly, it is hard to be mad when you see him outside having so much fun.

This week I have tried to do my grading on the back patio, so he can run to his heart's content - the problem with that? He just runs out of my sight.

I keep telling myself we only have another 11 months until he turns four. I hope he and I can both survive.