3

3. There's nothing intimidating about the number 3. It's a prime number. It can't be divided by any other number. It's kind of cute...with it's rounded edges. But stick it before "years old" and it's a doozy! There's nothing more frightening in my mother brain than a 3 year old child. The energy, the desire for independence, the sassy-ness.

Today at naptime, I got a good laugh...and a little sassy-ness from my 3-year-old. Jacob was stalling to go to bed, as usual. After a couple different attempts to stall, I told him he was allowed 3 more Cars toys and then he needed to go to bed.

"Get to bed, Jacob. I'm not going to say it again."
(Brace yourself....here it comes).
"Okaaaaaaaaaay! I'm going to beeeeed. I loooooove you. Oh yea, and one more thing MERRY CHRISTMAS!" Stomp....stomp....stomp. (wait for it). SLAM! (He has a knack for slamming his bedroom door when he doesn't get his way).

And that's just a glimpse into why I'm anxious to move past # 3 and onto # 4.