The Tantrum

Children and tantrums go hand in hand, you can’t have one without the other. There are varying degrees of tantrums depending on the age of the child. Trust me it’s not just the terrible two’s that causes them to fly into a rage the second they don’t get their own way. They don’t stop tantruming the reasons just get different. For example the terrible twenty threes. These are triggered  when you have accidentally made an innocent mistake, such as shrinking their special top( that is spun from fairy dust and so needs hand washing in unicorn tears while you sing a lullaby in mandarin) which they needed to wear to a party that night. Obviously you have ruined their life, they have no clothes as it is (whats 400 tops?) and no time to buy anything else so will be a social leper from now on, as this was the most important party of the decade, if your not seen at this one forget it life over! This is followed by huffing out of the kitchen in tears, slamming the kitchen door, stomping up the stairs, slamming their door all while crying, and muttering that they will “move out as soon as possible, cos they just can’t live here anymore”. I resist the urge to say, “Ooooh have you actually found somewhere? at least we agree on something”) or point out that had the top not been in the washing basket in the first place and was just left in the pile of clothes that normally litters her bedroom floor none of this would have happened. Instead I just sigh and make a mental note to double check the labels if A. I can be arsed and b. I actually have the time, then kick myself for not blaming the husband.

So even at the ripe old age of twenty odd, they are still liable to go off on one, you are never safe. On the upside they are less likely to kick off in a public place, they save it for home. Every cloud and all that.

The terrible seventeens also kick in an example being, shes on a another health kick at the minute. It is essential as a parent that I keep up with these phases, do not call them phases or fads to their faces and agree with all the health benefits that they list off to me. I also promise to try to get healthier myself and even nod when they suggest I give up alcohol. I have perfected the art of nodding while thinking “twelve of you in the house people, no way is cava off the menu”.) So on the whole I think I do quite well. I know it will last six weeks tops till the next one decides Quinoa is the new rock and roll.At the moment as far as the seventeen year old is concerned if its not juiced to with an inch of its life, smells like fermented mushrooms combined with sick, and is bright green shes having none of it. Obviously its her diet but for some reason I am in sole charge of ingredient buying. My job description is vast and if this lot were in charge of my performance management I dread to think what the outcome would be. So you can imagine the drama when she opened the fridge to get the stuff for the mornings concoction and……… “MUM THERES NO CURLY KALE”! Que fridge door slamming and the inevitable “How am I going to eat?” “Its all your fault, you don’t care about me, how could you not have got the main ingredient”? (Sometimes I wish they would just fire me and be done with it, it works for Alan Sugar. Off I toddle in a taxi, problem solved.) Its then that she also throws in that I didn’t manage to get to Waitrose to get her aloe Vera leaf.My selfishness knows no bounds apparently. A top tip here is not to suggest the use of spinach as a replacement, that takes the whole teen tantrum to another level. After more opening the fridge door ,sighing slamming it shut again and repeating this at least five more times off she huffs, you get the picture door slam, stair stomp door slam.

Then the three year old comes in, “I’ve brought you some animals for us to play with” he says, “You be a lion”. Now he’s had a tantrum or thirty in his time, one that was so bad I only shop online now, I can never show my face in a supermarket again (hence no aloe Vera leaf.) But next time your standing with your toddler who’s screaming, sobbing and puce in the face, because you won’t let them have a magazine ,which they only want for the toy anyway, while the rest of the world looks on as if its never happened them. (It sooo has by the way) just think, in an hour you will be playing animals with them on the kitchen table. In twenty years you will want to kill them.

Hold that thought and the terrible twos, tiresome threes and fiercesome fours not to mention the rather annoying sevens will seem like a walk in the park.

 

Mrs W

 

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