Showing posts with label Temper Tantrums. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Temper Tantrums. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Clearly, She Has The Upper Hand

So that the handful of people who actually read this blog on a regular basis don't assume I'm beating my daughter every day, I thought I should be a little more forthcoming on the post I wrote the other day about biting her back.

We are having SERIOUS bedtime routine issues with her lately. She changed daycare at the beginning of December because our regular provider dared (!) to get pregnant and have a beautiful baby girl before Christmas. Martine is the kind of mother that I always hope I'll be - patient, firm, consistent, crafty-creative, and one look from her and my daughter knows she's not allowed to poke someone's eyes out just for fun - and yet, I'm pretty sure I fall short in most of those areas because I am tired from the commute to and from work and the little energy I have left at the end of the day is needed for that night's temper tantrum and laundry.

Since being at the new place, our petite bébé has become aggressive. She bites. She kicks. She pinches. She slaps. She screams. She scratches. She sticks her tongue out often enough that I have several Ally McBeal moments where I imagine yanking it out just so that it will stop the "Boo-boo, na na na" sarcasm. She has temper tantrums that go on for hours. Trust me, you don't want to meet up with her in a dark alley 'cause she'll kick your ass.

After being bitch-slapped by a 3 year old over and over again, you do lose your cool. We have tried time-outs. We have tried distracting her with something else. We have tried ignoring the behaviour. We have tried ignoring her. Nothing seems to work except when it's gone on for more than 30 minutes and I YELL at her that that's ENOUGH. Mummy is MAD. You are a NAUGHTY GIRL. When you can say sorry for hitting Mummy, you can come out. Plunk her down on her bed and leave her in her room, close the door behind me, and then I hold her door shut, using both hands on the handle because now she's so PISSED that she's on the other side of it kicking and punching at the door. This goes on for over an hour and then she finally falls asleep, exhausted.

Any suggestions, short of shipping her off to a boarding school in Switzerland, you'd like to suggest?

Monday, February 9, 2009

Paging SuperNanny

Our little princess has turned into a hissing, growling, wild animal.
She slaps.
She scratches.
She bites.
She kicks.
She screams.
All in a sarcastic tone I abhor, "boo-boo, na-na..."

My reaction should be to remain calm and quiet, and calmly and quietly put her in a time out.

My reaction, ashamed I am to admit, is to do right back to her what's she's done. And you can guess how successful this game plan is. It ends with both of us in tears, both of us saying sorry, and me winning the shittiest mother of the year award.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Where's Dolly?

Today is a day I wish I had a clone.

Because then I wouldn't feel guilty for having to stay a few minutes late at work.

Because then I wouldn't feel that tight spot of anxiety knowing that my children need Mummy RIGHT NOW.

Because then my fiancé could have a few minutes of peace and quiet away from the screaming, slapping, kicking, pissed-off 3 year old.