Joshua has always been such a fiery, independent little boy and enjoys playing and interacting with others. When he’s home from preschool, he will spend most of the day that’s left playing and will rarely play alone as he much prefers company. But his feisty (such a nice way to put it) side certainly comes out in during playtime. When Joshua turned three years old, he very quickly became a tiny stroppy teenager.
Playing with a threenager is far from the fun we used to have on the playmat with cars and books when he was little. We would have fun for hours and there were little to no tears involved. But these days, Joshua has an idea of what we both should be doing, our ‘roles’ in the game that are imperative to follow but fails to inform us of his ideas so when we inevitably get it wrong – tears, tantrums and screams fill up the rest of the evening.
I mean, he knows the rules to a made-up game that he created a few seconds ago… so why don’t you?
These days, I would honestly rather be doing work or spending hours scrubbing all the floors in the house than play with Joshua. And when I say play… what I really mean is sitting on the floor trying to figure out what I’m meant to be doing while my three-year-old has collapsed in a heap on the floor. Who knew that pretending to swim on the carpet has only one correct way? In fact, I can often be found hiding in the cupboard eating biscuits while calling back to Joshua, “Dada just needs to do some washing, I’ll be there in a minute”, while hoping he forgets.
When bedtime finally comes, I’m dancing all the way to the top of the stairs with his teddy bear in toe! Annnnnnd, rest!