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Last Updated: Nov 14, 2008 - 12:49:26 PM |
The dreaded two-year-old tantrum: do we ever really get used to them? They can arise at any moment – the grocery store, the playground, and the comfort of your own home. You are never safe. All of the experts say to try and anticipate when a tantrum will occur. Watch for warning signs and then direct the child’s attention elsewhere. Well, how are you supposed to do that when one minute, they are happily playing and then five seconds later, they are screaming their little heads off and banging things on the floor? You can’t sit and stare at your child 24/7 waiting to anticipate a tantrum; we do have lives to live. Sure, you know that being tired, hungry, and over-stimulated are a deadly combination for any person, including you. However, sometimes you think the answer is quite simple and he is obviously possessed.
You can’t help but recall visiting your grandparents for the weekend and your child having the biggest and loudest tantrum possible. Seriously, Daddy could hear him outside, of the house, all windows closed, all doors shut. Terrifying, for sure. This is the ultimate embarrassment. At least at the store, you have a rare chance of ever seeing these people again; however, the cashiers might remember you (not a good thing). You always want to please your family, and that means having raised the perfect child: no ugly behavior, great manners and wonderful, healthy eating habits. Unfortunately, the truth does come out sooner rather than later, usually about ten minutes after walking in the door.
It usually begins with a little whining, and then you telling them no. You try the method of re-direction to no avail. Then the mother lode arrives and the kicking, the screaming, and your personal favorite, the swatting hands and unbelievably red face. As he kicks and cries and swats and fumes, you stare at this child who five seconds ago was this little angel snuggling up with Great-Grandma. He can go from 0 to tantrum in less than five seconds – outrageous. How do we survive this? It’s like a battle zone. You’re constantly jumpy, waiting for the inevitable cry of outrage to pierce the peaceful air. It’s exhausting, really, really exhausting.
You always stay calm – how, you don’t know. It’s a great defense mechanism to this assault on motherhood, the passive face. Works wonders for you. Yet this doesn’t work so well on the child; he is utterly absorbed in this mucous-flying free-for-all. So you go in the next room where you can still see if he is going to cause himself bodily harm, and wait it out. This is easy to do at home. The flip side to this is the dreaded public nightmare. Worse case scenario: Chester Public Library. It’s almost automatic, the tantrum. Obviously, this is supposed to be a quiet and peaceful place, but the minute you say, “No, you can’t run up and down the aisles,” the demonic dance begins. You can feel your blood pressure rising and feel the prickly sweat of mother’s fear under your arms. You immediately leave and race to the safe embrace of the minivan, flailing child and all.
As you drive home, Cars soundtrack blasting, you take a deep breath and relish in the fact that he is happy and quiet, at least for right now.
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