Often when I post, what I want to say pretty much just writes itself. This time around, I’ve been struggling with how express my home-life over the last six days. I am now on my third attempt, having hit that big black X several times. I’m nervous because for everything going on right now, I feel like it has to be my fault; something I’m doing wrong, or not doing enough. But I promised myself I’d always keep it real here, so this is where I am right now.
The crux of my matter: my three year old daughter. Wow, I need help. I am clinging by dirty and ragged fingernails to the last of my already splintered sanity. I would measure that approximately 80 percent of my child’s waking hours spent with me this past week have been immersed in preschool tantrums. We are at war, and I’m just trying to understand why.
It all started on Saturday morning. Both of my children appeared to be in fairly pleasant moods, happy to have the day at home to play. I walked around my house, surveyed the usual scattering of toys, and decided it was time to take action.
I alerted my little darlings that before they headed outdoors to enjoy the beautiful weather we had some cleaning up to do. My 21 month old son, who is only aiming to please these days, walked about singing a Clean Up song; picking up toys and placing them in bins. My daughter was none too happy with her present predicament and conducted an immediate sit-in. She plopped herself in the middle of her playroom and uttered various cries of protest.
“I wanna go outside! I don’t want to clean! I wanna watch TV! ”
I made my way through all attempts at reason. I tried giving her small tasks of the ‘please pick up that block and put it there’ variety. I calmly explained to her that with just a little bit of helping Mommy she’d have the rest of the morning to play. No dice.
My next move set into motion a fury that brought preschool angst to a whole new level. My son went out to play; my daughter remained inside. She wailed, kicked, punched, rolled about on the floor, banged on windows, swung at me, and flailed in such a way that I was just short of considering demon possession.
Tantrums for us are not new territory. I’ve listened to the behavioral therapists that attend my parent group meetings. I’ve tried all of their tricks of the trade. I remained calm. I did not yell. I stated plainly that she would be able to go outside to play as soon as she calmed down and helped me pick up a few toys. Then I went about my business and let her scream it out. Scream it out is exactly what she did for well over an hour.
This process continued. After nap that afternoon she again refused to help, which was killing me because it was such a beautiful day outside. I wanted to enjoy this time with my family, but I also couldn’t back down. I felt it was crucial to stick to what I had started. The tantrums continued. That night, after being confined all day I had a discussion with her, stating that I really hoped she would decide to help out tomorrow so that we could go outside and play. Her answer to me, “I didn’t want to go outside, so I didn’t clean.”
????
!!!!!
Seriously people? I felt like Mommy Dearest engaged in a battle to the end with her kid over a plate of rare meat.
The next morning brought more tantrums but I continued to stand my ground. Then all of the sudden she woke from her afternoon nap and picked up the toys that had been awaiting her attention for the past 30 hours. She was rewarded with praise and time outdoors. I thought we were in the clear, but that night and the days that followed only brought more screaming and crying about oh, you name it. The task of washing hands after going potty or getting ready for bed could easily set her off.
I confess that by Wednesday I pretty much lost it. My composure went out the window. After another hour of tantrums before bedtime (a portion of which was outside for my neighbors’ enjoyment) and my constant pleas to understand what in the name of all that is holy was wrong with her, I started screaming. It offered no help except to give me the emotional release that was required to get through it. At a loss, I picked her up, plopped her on her bed, and left my screaming demon spawn in her bedroom. I shut the door behind, sat in the stairwell, and drowned out her wailing with my own sobs as I cried my bloody eyes out. My husband came to my rescue and the change of guard seemed to help her, but not me.
I’ve been telling myself for months that she’s just three, that this will pass, and that she will settle eventually. Well, she’s almost four and it’s getting worse, by far not better. Her constant will is bearing down on me; a weight on my shoulders, resentment is brewing. I’m reaching the point where I can’t ignore that there’s something else wrong here. I’m searching for what it is that I am doing to precipitate this, and coming up empty.
For several more days the pattern continued. Then out of the blue this morning she got up, got dressed, was happy, did what she was asked to get ready for the day ahead, and had a very good morning. Are we out of the abyss? I’m not holding my breath on that one. I don’t know what to do, but things need to change. It’s not fair for my baby boy to be exposed to this mayhem. It’s not fair, all this stress that it’s causing me and my husband. It’s not fair, this sad little girl that I just want to be well adjusted and happy.
We can’t live like this. So tell me, is this normal? It sure doesn’t feel like it.
Help me Oh Internet, you’re my only hope.
Oh honey…I wish I had some words of wisdom. Just hang in there and hold your ground. Tantrums really are a phase and they will subside eventually. Trust me…although I haven’t had the pleasure of reachinf that point with my little dumpling, I spent nearly five years as a nanny for two little girls, one of whom was expelled from preschool. It was fun. Love you xoxox
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Ya know, scratch that not being there yet…ok, not to that degree…but I did have to remove my not-even-one-year-old son from what was a very pleasant bath because he kept standing up…and standing up…and standing up. He would stand, I would say “sit on your bum please…or no-no, danger” and so on and sit him down. I tried to distract him with toys, splashing, you name it. But he would just SCREAM at the top of his puny little lungs and immediately attempt to stand up again…I would correct, he would SCREAM……I would correct, he would SCREAM…SIX times to be exact until I finally threw in the towel and got him out of the tub. Perhaps I let it go on a bit too long but I was almost sickly curious to see just how tenacious the little stinker actually is. I fear we could have gone on that way until one of us passed out from exhaustion. So, I am pretty sure I will see you in toddler hell in another year or so. Have a drink ready for me, would ya? Mama needs a martini!
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Maria Reply:
August 28th, 2009 at 9:40 pm
Jess, thank you for the support….and believe me, my misery loves company. Hop on board! I’ll pour the drinks. XOXO
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Apparently your son has “Oonagi”
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Maria Reply:
August 28th, 2009 at 9:42 pm
Ahhh…salmon skin roll!!!
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Wow. It is like you wrote that post about my week. As a matter of fact, I wrote a very similar post earlier this week: This leads me to believe that it must be some shade of normal. For a scarily strong-willed girl child. Or, you know, a demon-spawn changeling.
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Following from MBC!
http://lollipopsandpickles.blogspot.com
http://www.mysweethomeinspirations.com
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I can’t say it gets easier, as Jordan is about 5 weeks older than Sofia…not much ahead of you in the way of experience, am I? But, I can say that I think that you are doing the absolute right thing by sticking to your guns…making a statement and sticking to it. I’m sure its not going to help your sanity…but you are doing the right thing. They have to realize at some point they can’t win…right? right?!?!? :0) Love the new page and blog. You rock, sista! (Kudos to Tony, as well. What a great DH!)
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My daughter is almost 3 and that boat is one that we’ve also sailed many times. It sounds like you have more patience than I do, however, because for me to hold it together she just has to go to a time-out in another room fairly quickly. I agree that sticking to your guns is the only route because once you give in then they know that they can rule the show!
Looking forward to hearing more! Following you from MBC…
http://thanksmailcarrier.blogspot.com
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Maria, do you remember the time she was about 18 months old and refused to hold our hands and just wanted to run and investigate the rest of the airport? She is just a very independent, very intelligent child who wants to control her world her way which isn’t too bad later in life, but is hard for you now. She is normal, you are doing everything right, and you have to just hang in there until she is able to handle it on her own. Keep up the consistency, give her choices when possible as you have done, and remember she will grow up–all too soon. Just keep showing and telling her you love her and you will be fine. Don’t you love that Dominic is next in line??? lol, Mom
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Having a strong willed girl of my own – I have lived through AND SURVIVED your pain. What did it take??? When she had just turned 6…YES I said 6! We went from age 2 thru age SIX before I was able to quell the beast! By the time she turned 6…I was lost…at my wits end…angry…depressed. SO…as I started, when she had just turned 6, I LOST IT. Spending more time screaming and crying than laughing and loving…I couldn’t take it anymore. I decided it was time to seek help. I knew what I was SUPPOSED to be doing…”take a deep breath”…”walk away”…”don’t engage”…but I just couldn’t DO IT. I finally took my issue to my GYN. I went in for an annual…and when it was over she asked me if there was anything I wanted to talk to her about. I started: “As a matter of fact…” and went on to ask: “Have you even felt like you were right there ON THE EDGE…and it wasn’t going to take much to PUSH YOU RIGHT OVER THAT EDGE?!” Being a woman and mother herself…she knew exactly what I was talking about. My fear was hormones…but she went through “a day in the life” with me…and decided to try me on a very low-dose anti-depressent/anti-anxiety med. While I was in line @ the pharmacy…I just happened to see the book: Have a New Kid by Friday: How to Change Your Child’s Attitude, Behavior & Character in 5 Days by Dr. Kevin Leman. I was literally trembling waiting for my prescription…so on a whim…I grab the book as my name was called.
I believe it was a combination of the two things…but going on the meds AND strictly following the books guidelines…our entire life and family turned around. After a few weeks…I actually caught a glimpse of myself laughing in my rear view mirror and it actually surprised me. It’s been a year…and we have a house full of love and laughter and sillies now. We still have our moments…but they are the exception now rather than the rule.
Hope this helps some…
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