Three and Up

"Caution: contains small parts. Not for children under three."

How many times have I seen those words? The day used to seem so far off when I wouldn't have to worry about my baby trying to ingest all of the "small parts" in his toys, but suddenly Max is three! He has officially moved into the next developmental age group, according to psychologists, book sellers, toy makers; so many things were off-limits until now, but suddenly he is old enough to handle the Big Kid toys and do all of the Big Kid stuff. (Including paying admission at the Minnesota Zoo. Bummer.)

It's a little bittersweet for me.

Three means he's growing up. Three means that he is old enough to go to school! I can't believe we are at that point already. Our church has a preschool program called "Catechesis of the Good Shepherd", open to kids age 3-6. Next fall, we'll be able to enroll Max and start meeting families in our parish. Hooray! I've heard such good things about this program, and I can't wait for Max to make some friends at our church.

I'm learning firsthand that Age Three was not randomly chosen as a major marker in child development. Even though we're only a month in, I have noticed changes in Max that show me he is really growing up. He's able to carry on a more complex conversation and make his needs known more clearly. But since I know he understands what I'm asking him, I've discovered that he has a terrible case of Selective Hearing. When we're talking about him, the kid's got elephant ears... but when I'm talking to him (more specifically, telling him to do something) suddenly the invisible headphones go on.

Oh Lordy, can't wait til he's a teenager.