Of Three Year Olds and Three Week Olds

Juliet had a very bad day today.  We all have them but it must be particularly hard for a three-year-old to take.  She wasn't feeling very well when she woke up, and she had swim class this morning.  Even when she doesn't want to go she usually is very excited and happy once she gets there.  Not today.  Matthew said she cried in the pool when her friend wouldn't go on the slide with her, and she was naughty when she was supposed to get dressed to go home.

After a nap that was evidently too brief she had a birthday party this afternoon.  Again she cried when Dad left her there with the other children.  When she got home from the party we took her to the park across the street.  The first thing that happened when we went outside was a full-out sprawl onto the sidewalk.  Luckily she was only scraped a little bit on her arms, and nothing that needed to be bandaged.  At the park I saw how a three-year-old expresses her anger; Juliet would walk away from Matt and me to play by herself.  If she saw us "playing" with her ball or her scooter, she would yell at us to "stop it right now!"  She used all the phrases parents use, like "I told you no!" and "I'm not happy with you!"

Juliet is obviously struggling with her role in this changed family.  She is now the Big Sister and I'm sure she doesn't always want to be that; some times she'd like to be the baby, with all the attention.  After all, she won't be four until January.  She is so verbal that at times it's difficult to remember that she's really still a very small child.

James on the other hand had a great day.  He is a good-natured baby anyway; not too much bothers him unless you don't feed him on time.  Just today he seemed exceptionally sweet, looking all around when his diaper was being changed, cooing softly as he looked at objects nearby, really seeming to study your face while you were holding him.  He fell asleep on my chest tonight for about an hour, and I can still feel the imprint of him, with his little fingers curled around the collar of my sweatshirt and his soft breath on my neck.  He doesn't have to worry about his place in the family, or anything else for that matter.  He is the Baby, and the king of the world.