Every now and then I have mothering moments that make me feel like I’m in the middle of a three ring circus, trying to tame a lion in front of thousands of onlookers. But, I don’t have a whip. All I have are a few repetitive phrases. And lions like Atrain don’t really care for words when they’re angry. They just bare their fangs, throw their heads back and roar.
We were just going to get toilet paper. That’s all. That’s all I wanted. And maybe just a little sneak peek at Target’s curtain selection to see if they sell anything stylish and suitable to help me trick my boys into bed on time. I’m getting tired of looking at the blankets hanging in the bedroom windows. (Why can’t the summer sun go to bed at a decent hour?) Had I known that the curtains live next door to the bicycles, I would never have ventured near such temptation. But as soon as Atrain spotted the shiny wheels, he was hooked.
I acquiesced his request to “just check out” their bikes. Mistake #2. When we got there he couldn’t see a single bike that wasn’t hung on a rack. “Phew,” I thought. Jdog and I weren’t going to have to follow him around in the store for an hour pretending we have purchasing intentions after all. But, Atrain had other, more elaborate dramatizations up his sleeve. “I want that bike bell,” he said. “You already have one, but if you want another one you can earn it,” I responded. He crinkled his nose, tightened his vocal chords and said, “NO. I don’t want to earn it. I want to buy it!”
I could see the ground beneath his feet begin to shake and knew that his volcano would erupt soon. So, I braced myself as I said, “Remember Atrain, we earn things. We can’t just buy them.” An immediate, distraught scream exploded from his throat, right on cue. After a few unsuccessful attempts to contain the damage, I did what anyone would do if a volcano exploded in the middle of a store: take the baby out of the cart, leave the goods behind and head in the opposite direction.
Atrain followed me, as I knew he would—and his outbursts continued, as I knew they would. But I was proud of myself for keeping my cool in the heat of the situation. As he roared and screamed and pulled my arm I asked, “Do you think this is a good choice or a bad choice, Atrain? Is this the way we act in stores? Are you earning a new bell for your bike when you act like this?” He finally began to come to his senses as we neared the entrance to the store. “I’m sorry!” he said. “I’m sorry! We left our toilet paper! Can we go back and get our toilet paper?” So after I gave him a big hug, we went back to retrieve our toilet paper.
This is no the only tantrum we’ve encountered in the last few weeks—and certainly they are nothing new, just more often. I don’t know what has spawned this string of horrible episodes of late. Maybe it’s all of the changes we’ve experienced in the last few months: new school class, dada in Texas, shifting summer sleep schedules (or the lack thereof), Jdog becoming evermore mobile and into Atrain’s toys, etc. Or maybe it’s just that he’s three. I don’t like it when he’s unhappy. And I don’t enjoy feeling like a ringmaster. Maybe I need a new approach—better taming methods. If you have little lions yourself and you know a few good tricks, I would love to learn them.
It's just that he's three. Trust me. My most tantrum-y 3 year old is now my most mellow child (by a long shot), so don't worry too much about it. Getting through it just takes supreme patience and consistency, which you've got! And a good pair of ear plugs, sometimes. :-)
ReplyDeleteThis is when I would sing you a reassuring chorus of "It's a phase, it's a phase, it's a phase phase phase..."
ReplyDeleteNo fun. Good job keeping your cool. You handled it expertly, as usual.
And remember that most men in his genetic line have gone places because they have just done what they wanted to do. :) That cute determined boy is going to go far.