I am a member of a couple local yahoo groups where I receive daily emails from mostly moms who are looking for advice about parenting issues. The three-year old temper tantrum has been taking up quite a bit of space in my inbox lately and it’s becoming more and more difficult for me to hide my eyes and divert my attention from the red flags and warning signs that signal that looming whirlwind of meltdown activity that Gianna gives me already in one-year old baby bites.
Moms are emailing with f-bomb subject lines and their messages are no less riddled by profanity. At least the subject line is fair warning to what follows. But, I am simply amazed at how gory these stories get.
One woman complained that her three-year-old daughter would scream and then hold her breath until she actually physically passed out and then when waking would resume the bloody-terror pitch. Another mom confessed she couldn’t take it anymore and locked herself in her bedroom to escape her four-year-old son. They all recount the horrors with a unique blend of mommy guilt, nature-goddess wisdom, desperation and fear of failure. And these are the women I have held as the highest standards in crunchy mama nurturing. They are over 40, patient, educated and staunch believers, practitioners and supporters of attachment parenting. How could THEY of all moms end up feeling this out of control?
It doesn’t bode well for me, is all I can think. I do my best to distract Gianna with new toys when I have to take away the one she really wants but can’t have. It doesn’t usually work. She sits her arse down and screams and if my leg or other appendage is not firmly rooted behind her she would throw her head back on the ground (smashing it to pieces on concrete driveways–yes, this almost happened) and howl in what would pass as an example of physical torture if she performed it in front of the Hague attorneys. Thankfully, her 13-month-old brain is usually set right again with a familiar song although sometimes it requires an accompanying jig of utmost shame and embarrassment to me.
I simply do not think it will come naturally to me to say, “I understand you are upset and angry that you cannot play with that toy right now. Let’s pick out a special toy to play with instead that we can use when we go to the park later today” or some other attachment parenting, I statement, goddess mama comment. No, I’m the mom saying, “No. Sorry.” And then walking away from the screams and wailing. I wish I could be that other mom, even if it never has a chance of working on my child. It just sounds like the kind of nurturing parent I would like to be. I really want to be that mom who so calmly bends down and hugs their child until the temper tantrum stops but my natural reaction is to yell at it until it stops because it is no longer the loudest voice in the room or to walk away from it entirely because it simply hurts my ears to endure that damn high frequency.
Once again, I end a post saying, “Poor Gianna.” and then quake in my boots at what is to come…
