Three-Year-Old For Rent

I'm not ready to sell him just yet, just rent him out for about 45 minutes each morning while he gets dressed. Then I'll take him back. The rest of the day, we have a lot of fun together. But when I get him dressed, he acts like I am sticking sharp needles in him. For some reason, most of his clothes bug him. Different pieces, different reasons. No rhyme or reason. A few months ago, after a particularly memorable morning, I wrote down what had happened. In case you're interested in renting him, this is what you'll be getting into...

"The jeans I get ready to put on Trey are brand new. Of course, he wants nothing to do with them. He throws a fit and I have to pin him down to get them over his legs. I'm pretty much sitting on him. I finally get them on, and he screams even harder because he can feel the adjustable waist belt inside the jeans. Finally, he calms down.

Next, the hooded shirt. As soon as I put it on him, he decides that the hood drives him nuts. Throws an even bigger fit. Almost strangles himself trying to get it off. He keeps trying to turn around to grab the hood on his back. If I weren't so mad, I would be laughing really hard. He looks like a dog trying to catch his tail. I don't have the time or the nerve to handle another drawn out fit, so I yank the shirt off him (maybe a little too hard) and put on something without a hood or anything that may set him off again.

Now it's time for shoes and socks. I open his sock drawer and realize that the three pairs of socks in his drawer are ankle socks, which he has never minded until I bought his most recent pair of shoes. Apparently, he will only wear long socks with these shoes - not ankle socks. Great. Of course. I try not to let him notice the ankle socks as I put them on. Doesn't work. Yet, another fit. I leave him in his room. I was so mad by this point that I had to just walk away.

Fifteen minutes later, he is still screaming and has both his socks and shoes off. I resort to digging through the dirty laundry to find the "right" kind of socks. He is now wearing dirty socks with his shoes. I put them on thinking the drama is over and he is finally dressed. He then points to the velcro on his shoes and tells me that I did it wrong. What!?! Apparently, I didn't do the velcro straight enough. He carefully replaces all four velcro straps to his standards.

He then smiles and acts like the last 45 minutes of the morning never happened. I, however, am still fuming. He is the only person in the world that makes me want to laugh, cry, and scream at the same time. Or beat him and hug him at the same time."

I only document this so that one day when he is much older with children of his own, he might thank me for resorting to screaming some choice words into a pillow instead of strangling him.

One day I'll laught about this. Right?

Here are pictures of just a few of our mornings the last few months. Yeah - I take pictures of him as he is screaming at me.