Life as art? Hahaha- Monday's post mocks me here on Friday. This week it's more like life as surviving without poking my eyes out. Or life as three seconds away from losing my sanity. Or life when your child's your thorn in the flesh. Yep- it's been one of those weeks.
Em has always been prone to tantrums. She's had some doozies but had been doing really well for quite a while. She had a rough patch in the time period right before she could really talk and her method of communication became the freak-out. Then when Jax was first born she threw some hissy fits, which have continued off and on since June. The past month or two have been hard, but we've tried to be consistent with her when I know life is pretty inconsistent right now. When Matt's gone (like this week) the fits usually peak, but this week...oh- a total mountaintop experience. I mean, my girl peaked.
It started off at the gym when she decided to bite her bro. On the head. Poor sweet, unassuming Jax who smiles 90% of the day started wailing as I had just put him down to get a diaper out of my bag. I knew instantly that it had to have been the result of a bite, so when I saw his wet forehead with huge teeth marks in it I wasn't surprised. I handed my sobbing Jax over to the childcare worker, spanked my Em, and subsequently watched her fall into the tantrum to end all tantrums. She freaked. She screamed, she cried, she flailed. It was awful. And she did it the whole way out the door. So there I was with a baby in one arm, trying to pick up my psycho two-year old with the other arm. It's a darn good thing I've been working out. We got about halfway to the car (it's a looooong way to the car) when I put her down and just started walking. This was a great lesson for me to learn. Two-year olds don't realize that they won't really be left behind. Muhahaha. I used that trick more than once this week. Yeees.
Back to the biting though. Unfortunately, it's become a pattern. As in, she's bitten her little brother in the toes twice before the head incident and just last week bit her best buddy on the cheek. So, I did something that no parent ever wants to do. I bit my child. The whole idea of "this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you" was so true in this situation. It was an awful feeling. Very calmly, on the ride home, I told her what I was going to do and explained to her why. Then I tested it on my own arm to figure out the balance of not too hard, but hard enough to have an impact. I called a friend who had done the same thing and whose child never bit again. Then I swallowed down my own tears and went up to her room. I guess this is what they call tough love. I don't like it at all.
The week didn't improve either. She threw tantrums all week and I truly don't know what to do. She just did again this afternoon. I've tried everything. I stay calm even when I'm seething inside. So what in the world can I do? What's the one thing I haven't tried yet? There's gotta be something. Is it just me? Am I just a terrible parent? Oh my word. HEEEEEEELLLLLLLLPPPPPPP MMMMMMEEEEEEEEEE.