We have hit "God Almighty, the earth is coming to an end, neverending, Toddler Meltdowns"... at 16, almost 17, months old.
My parents LOVE to tell the story of how I would go to preschool and do various things to get into trouble and the "principle" would call my Dad in (keeping in mind that my Dad is NOT a small, nor lenient man) and tell him about my latest escapade. To which, my Dad would say "What would YOU, ex colonel in the army, recommend me doing? Because honestly, i'm just not sure" and the Principle/ex-colonel would reply he was also at a loss. My 3 year old self had completely baffled two very intimidating men.
MY daughter is not yet two. In the last week she has had two notes home for biting. Ended story time at the library for her entire class. Oh and has managed to have 5+ meltdowns in less than twelve hours... oh and now she also hits.
The biting, well i'm addressing that as well as i can with a 16month old, she learned it at school.
The hitting, we tell her NO (very firmly) and then show her nice hands.... now she hits so then she can also show you nice hands...
The meltdowns? Well, these are more
assfat annoying special. Yesterday we were happily walking home from a friends house when Kinsley took a little tumble, lightly skinning her knee and roughing up her pinkie quite a bit. I ran back and swooped her up (after I gave it a moment to see if this was a "brush it off" moment or a kiss the booboo moment... it was neither, it was a "HOLY SHIT MOM, the side walk just backhanded me!" moment). So I cradle my sad little bean to me and tell her it's okay and that we're going to go home... only for her to scream louder and try to get out of my arms. I mean THAT's a normal reaction, right?
So I took the hint and set her down to walk... except we were on the OTHER side of the street now and she didn't want to be on THIS side of the street, she wanted back on the other side to walk home. Well,
tough @#(*$#) maybe tomorrow, but we're going home now Kinsley, it's time to eat!! Enter
meltdown two, complete with throwing her prized empty bubble container on the ground in a fit of rage.
Have I mentioned that neighbors are starting to watch us now... even ask if we need help...
So I heft her up on my side and carry her like a pack of potatoes (because THIS behavior doesn't not get the nice Mommy cuddle on my chest hold!) and walk to our house while her snot and tears drip all over my legs. I set her down to tell her (in the midst of her hitting me) that we do NOT hit and that she needs to tell Mommy she's sorry. So she cuddles me (that's how she says sorry), I tell her it's okay and that i'll go and get her beloved empty bubble container, she smiles.
I jog back, grab it, bring it to her and tell her lets go inside and get something to eat. She starts walking the other way, fast. I run, grab her hand and lead her the RIGHT way and tell her we need to eat... enter
Meltdown three!
At this point i'm BEYOND embarrassed with my stellar parenting skills and scoop her up and grab our stuff and go inside without a word or explanation. I give her the
gift from God wubbanub and cuddle her until her food is ready. She happily sits and eats and asks for more. After she's done she hops up, grabs her empty bubble container and stands by the door yelling "OUTsIIIde". I explain that it is time to go to bed and we need to get a bath (her Favorite!) so we need to go upstairs. Enter
Meltdown Four, where she threw her bubble container against the wall. **my head is now beating against the metaphorical wall** I bend down tell her VERY STERNLY to
pick.it.up and give it to Mommy.. she does... "now lets go upstairs and get a bath"... she does.
We bathe, we get ready for bed, we cuddle, i lay her down... enter
Meltdown 394857...
Honestly looking back at all of this i won't even tell you about the next morning... it's just not fair to y'all. So i'll leave you pictures of my little "angel". Notice the presence of the beloved bubble container... also responsible for this mornings meltdown...
