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Have I mentioned the terrible threes?  Well, they are here!  Generally when Pierce and I spend our days together it’s pretty mellow and he entertains himself nicely while I get things done around the house.  However, the more people and distractions around can be just the necessary formula to sends him over the edge…repeatedly.

Last week we did this thing for Mikey’s school that they do every year at Thanksgiving.  It’s called the Turkey Trot, and most the school staff and all the parents and students that want to take part meet at the park in front of the Town Hall and walk over the pedestrian bridge to school.  It’s all very exciting, and this year Mikey actually wanted to take part.  Pierce was thrilled at the prospect of walking over the bridge that we see every while waiting in the car line.

The first trek over the bridge to city hall was fun.  Then we waited in line for a bit, and when it was time to make the human train that would walk over to the school, Pierce decided to march to his own drum which compelled him to weave and saunter in spite of the traffic behind him trying to keep from mowing him down.  Finally I pulled him aside by the hand—another thing that he is quite adverse to these days—where he started to sit down in the middle of the sidewalk risking pulling his arm out of the socket.  I picked him up to the distress calls of both his voice and my muscles—there was no way I was going to carry this crapper across the bridge.  I stepped off the sidewalk and set him back down, where he melted into the grass in angry defeat.  Parents took wide berths around him, looking down at the ugly scene in pity and disgust.  I said to my moving audience “Take it in people—Welcome to the terrible threes!  Good times!”  Then I just watched Pierce lay on the ground in protest.  I even started to walk away pretending that Mikey and I were leaving, much to Mikey’s chagrin as he panicked that I was actually serious about leaving his little brother behind.

Then inspiration struck like lightening!  We were supposed to be going back up the bridge!  Surely that prospect could motivate this little monster.  With false enthusiasm (what does he know) I asked if he would like to walk over the bridge, “C’mon!  It’ll be fun!”  It worked.  He was up and moving, albeit, not very quickly, but we made it across.

Somewhere in our parade, I came shoulder to shoulder with Mikey’s teacher where we chatted until we were back in the school parking lot.  She took Mikey to class and Pierce started up again—no Menchie’s Ice Cream Cone, Sergeant McGruff, or any other poor adult dressed as a local mascot would interest him.   I had to tell him that we would go look for Mikey.  We saw him at a distance, and about the time I needed another distraction to get back to car we came upon the sea life mural painted on the side of the school.  Whew…another crisis averted.

Then there was the long weekend…he was pretty ornery off and on, and you’d think he had a head the size of a watermelon because on Saturday it seemed to come in contact with every hard surface in our house—the wall, the coffee table, the book-case…  At a certain point it’s hard to be sympathetic because it’s simply plain old not paying attention on his part.

Because both boys have been fascinated with Halloween and Halloween shows this year, I saved the Franklin episode indefinitely so that they can relive the horror anytime they would like.  Saturday night I was going to turn it on BECAUSE they asked for it, and Pierce freaked out like I dropped him in a nest of ghosts and spiders.  It almost got beyond coming back at one point—sobbing, hollering, (me ignoring), more sobbing and hollering, and finally we changed the show, but it took him a while to recover.

Then last night we had a fire pit in the back yard where we roasted marshmallows and played hide and go seek, which is pretty lame when neither child can be quiet.  Then Pierce wanted to swing.  He has taken a liking to spinning when we push him in the swing, so Mikey and I took turns making him dizzy.  He loved it for about 15 minutes when all of a sudden he decided that he’d had enough.  He started screaming and sobbing—I think he got sick to his stomach because he kept saying “Want to sit on sofa with you.”

So let me count the ways?   I would say we discovered about 12 different ways to make Pierce cry over the Thanksgiving weekend.

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