Last time I was contending with a three year old, I was preoccupied with a few other things. To name one, I had a newborn on my hands, which was sucking up all my energy and sleep. As it turns out, I was also dealing with a decrease in thyroid hormones, which likely wasn't doing wonders for me. So my daughter's fourth year on this earth (which technically begins after you turn 3) was kind of a haze.
I would probably add to it now that in spite of having lost a lot of verbal abilities and the corresponding patience for other people trying to decipher her will between 2 and 3 because of ASD, the daughter was apparently the easy kid, or so it seems in hindsight. She wasn't the sort of kid to take off her diaper and sprint around the house naked. Or the kind of kid who would climb a couch and launch herself down from the shoulder face first.
Which brings us to the current three year old. In spite of his continued plea for a baby brother (I swear this kid loves babies more than I do, and I adore babies!), there isn't a newborn around to distract me and deprive me of sleep. Given that, I'm noticing some things.
To wit: three year olds are pure id. Thank god they know very little, and can't sit very still for long, or the average three year olds would be evil geniuses. Mine can tell a whopper of a story when he puts his mind to it, which doesn't happen often because he's more likely racing around a room at full speed dragging around various toys he has tied together with rope or a string. Or trying to figure out how to jump from piece of furniture to piece of furniture without ever touching the floor.
It's been suggested that on top of daily preschool, he might benefit from extra curricular sports. Alas, most soccer leagues don't take children still in diapers, and frequenting drop in playtime at our local kid gymnasium has mostly proven that he would be the bane of many a gymnastic coach's existence. He's a pure machine of will and daring. What he really might benefit from is some sort of toddler fight club. As it is, I have to warn him that most kids are not into wrestling at first meet, otherwise he greets with a "I'm knocking you down!" right before he tackles them.
It's a good thing he wasn't a first child. There likely wouldn't have been another.