Three year old Rite of Passage

A year and a half ago while shopping at Walmart with Daphney and baby Demitri a gentleman who had been watching me struggle with my children approached me to share some knowledge.

:"You always hear about the terrible twos but what they should be telling you about is the horrible threes. It only gets worse." 

I kindly thanked the man for the unasked for positive encouragement to give up now and informed him my daughter was still six months from turning two. I shook off the look he wore so clearly reading of, oh man you are really in for it then...

I should have heeded the warning.

Today my daughter officially graduated to the class of horrible three year-olds the moment she crossed the threshold into the waiting room for her three year old "well" child check.

Just picture Daphney losing it when asked the rediculous request to remove her shoes in an attempt to be weighed. I am talking flaling bawling on the floor ugly cry until I attempted to lift her up (without straining any stomach muscles) in turn she ran out of there yelling "I just want to go home." (This happened twice before the nurse gave up and said maybe we will come back to this.)

Suffice it to say we didn't accomplish anything until the doctor came in for reinforcement. Then I held her down with my legs and held her arms while my screaming child had her heart rate measured. (I am sure that was an accurate depiction of the normal rate)

After that the doctor asked Demitri and I to leave with her out of the room thinking that if Daphney knew that we would only come in if she would calm down that it would help. This didn't work on account of what she wanted was to be rid of med staff so this was great and more of a gift. When we got out there the doctor turned to me and said "what is going on?" 

You tell me Doc! -because personally I think she may be broken... In reality I replied again..."I am sorry; I really have never seen this happen".

After returning into the room: again picture Daphney flailing on the floor while thrashing all her limbs. The doctor trying to talk her down says, "Do not kick! Do you like it when people kick you, because I can kick you too!" I understand my daughter deserved it but it was funny realizing what point we were now at. I think  the doctor realized it too by my unsuccessfully surpressed snicker, because following that she said, "maybe I will just give you some alone time with her." In my head I thought - yeah that might be best for both parties... 

Happier note: We accomplished all the tasks eventually and we don't have to do this again till she is four! And she is still in the 99th percentile for height out of default on account of a hundreth percentile not being a possibility.