Three-Year-Olds Aren't Assholes..They're Bi-Polar (Manic Phase)

As an MSW, I feel qualified to write this post. My dear friend Sarah Fader who is a fellow blogger wrote this amazing post about how three-year-olds are Assholes. You should read it . Sarah has some good points. However, I've got a different theory.

Three-year-olds aren't assholes. There are some serious deficiencies in terms of mental health and I'm convinced that they all have bipolar disorder (manic phase) . Lets evaluate this situation people.

According to the DSM IV people with bipolar disorder (manic phase) exhibit the following symptoms:

Easily distracted
Little need for sleep
Poor judgment
Poor temper control
Reckless behavior and lack of self control
Very elevated, expansive or irritable mood, such as racing thoughts, talking a lot, false beliefs about self or abilities

Yeah, that pretty much fits. I ask my son to focus on his homework and he walks away to wash his hands, do a cartwheel, and knit a sweater.

I try to ensure that my son gets a solid 7-8 hours of sleep at night so I put him down at 9pm. He stays up until midnight, and then wakes up at seven..

He does headstands on the couch in such awkward positions that I fear he will break his neck. I tell him to be careful. He laughs hysterically and continues to engage in activities that could have him ending up in the E.R.

I tell my son that we are not buying new toys. He yells at me and insists that I am trying to ruin his life. In that moment, I am the most horrible selfish bitch you can imagine for getting in the way of him having a new toy.

I tell my son not to run into the street. He runs into the street.

Endless babbling, asking why about pretty much everything, and convincing himself that the cat is going to eat him alive pretty much sums up the fact that my son is bat shit crazy.

Common treatments for this serious mental illness include psychotropic medication, long-term therapy and hospitalization. But we're screwed because apparently these options are not available for children.

So how do I cope? I vent, I pull my hair, I pray, I cry, and occasionally drink heavily. I also will continue to bombard the American Psychological Association or whatever it's called and demand that we stop making bullshit excuses that this is age appropriate behavior and medicate our children to the point where they are too doped up to know their names!