By LIA SPENCER
THERE’S been a lot of yelling, tears and door slamming in the house lately – and no I’m not talking about my husband’s reaction when Pacquiao lost to Mayweather in the big fight this weekend.
I’m talking about my almost-two-year-old going on 13-year-old.
At first I thought she was getting a little moody from her teeth but when no new teeth appeared I thought it may be an early case of terrible twos.
Now I’m not so sure.
For about 10 days straight she had ripper tantrums that would rival the likes of 2007 Britney Spears (remember the moment the pop star shaved her head and beat the car with a umbrella)?
At first the tantrums started out small.
I would tell Isla she wasn’t allowed to do something and she would lie on the ground and cry.
Then they got a little bigger.
She would be eating her food and decide she wouldn’t like it – so she would throw it on the ground to make her point.
But the mother of all tantrums came only a couple weeks ago.
She was pretty happy before her daytime nap but when she woke up all hell broke loose.
She cried a bit, so I went into her room to pick her up and give her a hug.
But, no, she didn’t want to be picked up so I let her lay with her dummy and favourite toy elephant and cry it out.
In the meantime, I made her a sandwich and cut up some fruit and when I was done, I attempted for a second time to pick her up out of her cot.
She reluctantly agreed and after a quick cuddle, she wanted some lunch.
I popped her down on a ‘big girl’ seat next to me at the table and she took a few bites.
She then started her fake coughing – which was a signal that she wanted her drink.
I placed her sippy cup in front of her – but something in those three seconds had set her off.
Maybe it as the colour of the bottle (because who likes green anyways?) Maybe it was what was in the bottle? (Water – ugh, yuck. Gimme the good sugary stuff mum).
Maybe it was the sound of the bottle hitting the table?
Maybe it was something else altogether but, whatever it was, she didn’t like it.
She waved her hands in front of her in a frantic rage, screaming ‘NOOOOOOOO’, then ran to her room and slammed the door.
After ignoring her during her first few tantrums, I started doing time-outs.
So I followed her to her room, and when she wouldn’t co-operate, I told her she could have a time-out.
After only a minute or so (which may have seemed like a lifetime), I decided to try and calm her down.
But that was to no avail.
When I slowly opened the door, it was slammed back in my face.
This is when I decided to get my phone and record it.
Possibly an insensitive move on my part but I wanted evidence to show her dad the big temper coming out of such a little girl (his mum has told me he used to throw some whoppers).
The second and third attempt was also met with a big slam and a high-pitched scream.
On my fourth and final attempt I spoke softly to her slowly, slowly but forcefully pushed the door open and watched as she tried with all her might to close it.
She had a bright red face and I could almost see the steam pouring out her ears.
I was probably meant to be stern with her at this point, but when I saw her snot and tears pouring down her cheeks I crumbled in sympathy.
I put my phone down and gave her a big hug and, just like that, she must have forgotten what she was mad about.
She hasn’t thrown a big tantrum since (touch wood), but I am bracing myself for more to come in the year ahead.
I’m sure I will be one of the lucky ones to endure stares in the supermarket or in a car park, but for now, I’m just thanking my lucky stars that the tantrums have happened at home and we can laugh about them now.
