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Who needs birth control reminders…

…when you have a toddler who has regular temper tantrums.

Seriously. That’s reminder enough for me to take my daily dose.

It seems we have entered the phase of temper tantrums full force. It has taken a toll on me today. One minute she’s the cutest, sweetest kid you’ve ever seen in your life (and I’m not just saying that because I’m her mother and I’m biased…ok maybe a little, but she’s completely adorable!). Then, faster than you can blink, she’s gone all Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde on your ass and it’s like… “Whose kid is this!?!?!”

Maybe if I can teach her to do it on command, she could make herself a few bucks.

Maybe if I can teach her to do it on command, she could make herself a few bucks.

For example, today she was playing with her little plastic kitten. She had a stretchy bracelet that she was attempting to put around it’s neck like a necklace. She was standing there trying, unsuccessfully for many minutes, and becoming visibly increasingly frustrated. So I finally spoke up.

Me: “Hey L, would you like Mama to help?”

L: Running over enthusiastically with a smile on her face. Shakes head yes, and hands both over to me.

I put the bracelet on the cat’s neck like a necklace and go to hand it back to her.

She smiles, reaches out for it, takes it in her hands and then throws it across the length of the room while simultaneously dropping herself to the floor. Let the screaming, kicking, and full body throws of unbalanced emotions begin.

Oh crap. Remind me to keep her away from my car.

Oh crap. Remind me to keep her away from my car.

I’m meanwhile, just sitting there watching in amazement at the many ways my daughter can contort her body. I mean, I don’t want to give in and give her attention as it will just be negative reinforcement for her behaviour.

So I sat back and watched the show. When she realized that nobody was really paying her any attention she finally sat up and looked at me. This conversation ensued:

Me: “Are you finished?”

L: Crossed arms, hung head, and a pout. No words.

Me: “If you’re finished, please stand up and go pick up your cat.”

I know this is bound to go on for years to come. Thankfully my fiance came home tonight with a chocolate bar weighing 400g’s, and as long as my forearm. I’m going to need it!

I’m not quite sure how else to handle it really. This is a new phase. Do any of you have any suggestions on how to handle the meltdowns and make them less frequent?

(I’ve got the chocolate and wine handled, but that’s more for me after she’s gone to bed).