Entering the Threenage Years (plus an LMJ Update)

Not to leave you hanging, dear readers, I will give a brief update on the Little Miss Junior (LMJ) situation and then move on, because there is not much to share and I’d like to give some attention to Little Miss (LM) today.  LMJ is still home and appearing wonderful.  She is healing, eating, playing, giggling, developing, growing and still very cute.  We had one follow up blood test and the doctors were pleased though I was discouraged by her lack of bump in the neutrophil department.  We are waiting on the genetic test for conclusive results on whether or not she has cyclic neutropenia (a very rare blood disorder) and that will arrive in 3-5 weeks, which in my world will feel like 3-5 years, or maybe more like 3,000-5,000 years as I oscillate between ‘this would explain everything’ and ‘there is no way she is inflicted with this very rare disorder’.  A debate that no doctor is willing to engage.  There will be more about the roller coaster that we are on, and make no mistake that I am a nervous wreck at times, but let’s not ignore a very big life event:  we have entered the threenage years.

Little Miss turned three this week, on Valentine’s Day to be exact.  She is three going on thirteen.  I heard the term “threenager” for the first time the other day and I LOVE it.  That is exactly what she is.  After having been very naughty during her quiet time I was reprimanding her with a loud voice and a deep tone (mind you, not yelling having lost my temper, simply my ‘angry mommy voice’).  I explained to her that she needed to apologize to me immediately for peeing in her bed, which was not an accident but something she had done on purpose because she was mad at me.  That’s baaaaaad.  It is the meanest I have ever seen her be.  I am explaining this to her and when I’m done she puts her hand on her hip, and with a definitive head waggle says to me, “well, you need to apologize to me for yelling at me.”  Dear readers, I had to chuckle.  It was me, a three year old version of me, talking back to me.  I couldn’t be mad for her tone or her mannerisms – she had learned them from the best.  I could however respond in kind, which is what I did.  Our relationship is definitely evolving and while it will boil my blood from time to time, I’m proud of her gumption and ability to stick up for herself.  Those are qualities that will serve her well in this world.

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