There’s nothing more frightening than witnessing a toddler tantrum.
Well, Madonna without make up might come close. Heh.
But seriously, despite the on-going hell raising incidents, does your head ever condition itself to stop pounding from the incessant screams?
For the most part, I’ve somewhat learned how to “cope”.
It’s realizing that they don’t understand why they’re going through it.
And for a little person who’s confused as to what’s going on in their head, they can sure as hell do a lot of damage.
How my beloved twinlets can turn from cute, delicate angels to steely strong destructive monsters in a flat second, I’ll never know.
Well, actually I do. It’s triggered by that inkling of tiredness or small pang of hunger.
For instance, the twinlets went through this phase where their foot HAD to be held while we were in the car.
I somehow had to do a yoga twist to reach out to the back seat and not only try to calm one but two children.
It was getting to the point of absurdity (or more like parent slavery). Without any other option, we went cold turkey.
No more soothing feet.
Ignore the tears instead.
Block your ears to the screams.
After much conditioning, I somehow found my happy place (Drinking a cocktail beside a pool in Bali, of course).
One morning though, K-Bear wasn’t going to give in to the sudden lack of feet attention. He wanted a foot rub, damn it.
Kicking and screaming all the way to the swimming pool (which felt far longer than the 20 minutes it took), he tried to escape from his car seat, busting out of the shoulder straps.
We were indeed the heartless parents who had seized him in a state of confinement.
And in his wild jungle protests, my little 3 year old monkey managed to kick off the interior door handle.
All that remains is this…
Oh, and this…
We can all laugh about it now. Just.
In fact, I’m now positive that twins start giving each other flack as early as 3 years of age because Nunu will occasionally point at the door and say:
“Look Mama, what happened to the door?”
Ah, it sounds like an innocent question but it’s obvious what he’s hinting at.
Enough so that K-Bear will mumble in reply:
“I’m sorry, Mama. I’m sorry…”
At least we still have 3 functioning door handles.
Besides your sanity, what has your toddler broken during a full-blown tantrum?
Joining Essentially Jess for another fabulous round of IBOT