The Plight of the Three-Year-Old

I guess it's hard to be three. I know that as adults we sometimes wish to be kids again, but I really have no interest in reliving my youth, and spending time with my granddaughters -- no matter how sweet they can be most of the time -- only reinforces my lack of interest. We have spent the day out shopping and running errands, and they have been driving each other (and me) crazy. One of them -- and which one it is alternates -- does something to annoy the other, who then gets upset and starts yelling or whining. I suppose this is normal among siblings, and maybe girls are worse with it than boys. I can remember my oldest with my middle son (they share about the same age difference as my granddaughters); he (the oldest) had a greater command of language, of course, and would drive the middle one crazy. The middle one would get so frustrated because he didn't have the words to express what he wanted to say. The get along great now.

As a grown-up, I try to tell my ten-year-old granddaughter that she's old enough to be able to restrain herself from saying things she knows will infuriate her sister. As an oldest child, I can relate to her resentment of higher expectations and greater responsibility. It's hard for the little one to manage or probably even understand her emotions, much less her place in the world. She wants what she wants when she wants it, and doesn't understand why it's not always possible -- or advisable -- for her to get it. On the other hand, she can go from being just beastly to being incredibly sweet, all within a matter of minutes. So while I can empathize more with the older one, I sympathize more with the younger one. My son said that for both girls, the "threes" have been more terrible than the "twos". She will be four at the end of July. It can't come soon enough for anyone!