Being THREE years old is hard work.
Our days are truly the best of times and the worst of times. K can go from being a delightful fun-loving child to a monster at the drop of a hat. And by monster I mean a tantrum-throwing, unable to communicate, sometimes inconsolable child.
Let me tell a little story about Friday afternoon...
Neither one of my kids napped particularly well on Friday. We got to sleep a little late, and K had a hard time getting settled before falling asleep. She woke up in a foul mood. She was grumpy and whiny. I offered to go back to bed with her - a little more rest never hurt anyone. She refused. I offered food; thinking maybe just maybe she was hungry. Again she refused.
About 15 minutes later - after much whining - she was back to her fun-loving, adorable, three-year-old self.
We went upstairs to put some clothes away and play.
I was putting away some things in our room when K came running in speaking a mile a minute.
She locked C in their room. I tried using a bobby-pin and a pair of tweezers to open the door. That failed. I then instructed K to talk with C while I looked for a screwdriver. I ran down the stairs and found the first available screwdriver. When I got back upstairs, I found out the screwdriver was too big to fit into the door. By this point C was SCREAMING. I ended up taking the doorknob off.
Within minutes I had the doorknob off and C was rescued.
K showed little remorse for locking C in their room; however, she was distraught over my putting her in a chair (with instructions to not move a muscle) while I took the doorknob off.
After C was rescued, we all went down to the basement. I had some laundry to do and we needed a change of scenery. Upon getting downstairs, C wanted to be held. I had to put him down to move clothes from the washer to the dryer. Upon being put down, he started crying. And so I started moving at lightening speed. K decided at this point that she wanted to help. By the time she expressed interest in helping I was nearly finished and I told her her help was not needed.
And she lost it.
She stood still for a moment. She dug her heals into the ground. And she screamed.
I'm talking top of her lungs, ear piercing scream.
And as she was screaming our house alarm went off.
It took me a minute to realize that the alarm was going off. I told K to stay in the basement as I ran up the steps to determine why the alarm was tripped. As I ran up the steps, it occurred to me that K's scream could be the cause of the alarm. We have a glass break detector in our basement. Is it possible that her scream was so loud and so high pitched that it resembled glass breaking?
After determining no one was in our house, I turned the alarm off. The follow-up phone call from the alarm company came within a minute. Sure enough, they confirmed that the alarm was tripped by a loud noise in our basement.
K's scream was so powerful she set off our alarm.
My ears have not stopped ringing from the alarm. And now every time K raises her voice in protest we are able to remind her that she needs to lower her voice unless she wants to set off the alarm again.