Katrina's tantrums are now a multi-daily thing. They're set off by the apparently smallest event, often related to a diaper change, and then last and last and last through numerous other events.
I'm trying to remember how to deal with tantrums in a toddler too young to weigh consequences, or to sit in timeout. Putting her somewhere so she can finish her fit sounds good in theory, but I'm realizing -- remembering -- why that doesn't work. It quickly turns into the tantrumer controlling the situation, sometimes deliberately. When she's in another room crying and screaming, I'm "on duty," paying full attention, listening for breaks in the storm, checking for opportunities to get her back on track. I still need to feed her, to go places, to do things -- we can't all be left on hold for as long as she decides.
Besides, on the surface, it sounds like you can just ignore it, but that's only true if it will end in a relatively short amount of time. First of all, you can't really ignore it. But even if you could -- for how long? Half an hour? An hour? At what point does it become neglect for a 19-month-old to be freaking out alone?
Katrina didn't get a nap today, and I took her to a birthday party outdoors in a park, knowing she'd be better off outside in a new distracting situation than at home. She did fine at a very nice party in a nice park outside, even recovering from a nice face-plant on the pavement, and had fun trying to climb up a nice slide.
I enjoyed being able to stand and talk and mostly relax while I watched her play. At first she checked in with me a lot, but later, she wandered off on her own, though her brothers were often in sight.
She fell asleep in the car on the way home, and I let her sleep in the car for almost an hour, frequently checking on her. I heard her when she woke up and she was not happy. This turned into another full-scale tantrum, more sad than angry, and without her usual energy, but no less persistent.
About 30 minutes into it, she had escalated to kicking while lying on the ground, mortally offended by the offer of her favorite food. I had no choice but to leave her alone while I got everyone's dinner together, which did nothing to lessen it (though she calmed down momentarily for the camera).
Dave got her out of a tantrum yesterday by showing her some favorite Sesame Street clips on his iPhone. This time, he asked the boys to show it to her, which they happily obliged.
It worked for the length of the video, but picked right up again afterward.
After everyone was sitting to dinner, I put my full attention to pulling her out of this. I sat and read "Five Pumpkins" at least 25 times, then moved on to a lift-the-flap farm book. It took 10-15 minutes, but finally, she calmed down for just brief enough moments that the reading would take hold, and finally, FINALLY she got interested in the book. After more reading, I was able to move her to my lap, read both books for now the 100th time. By then, Julian was done with dinner and was butting in, so I was able to transition her to sitting with him and reading. I didn't dare offer her dinner until another half hour later, when she was finally far enough away from The Fit to eat.
It's exhausting. I feel run over by a steamroller after these episodes. These are very, very long minutes -- about 60 of them tonight.
I thought I'd be good at this by now. I know better what to expect. But so what? I know that getting her out of these fits is a crazy patchwork of time, luck, timing, and persisting enough with the right distraction for that particular tantrum. And in the end, I still don't know if I could have gotten through it sooner, or prevented it somehow.
I do know, sitting here in the safety of the office, listening to her even breathing over the monitor, that she'll outgrow them. And I'm not as mystified or alone as I was with Gabriel, baffled why all the standard methods and experts and advice and magazine articles and nanny TV shows never came close to addressing the challenge. And I have Julian to remind me that I'm not completely defective. But that's little comfort during the first 99 readings.
Maybe I'm freaking out about this far more than necessary. It's only been a week or two of serious tantrums after all. Maybe they won't last for two years. Maybe she won't completely control us, send me into a depression, cast a dark shadow over the whole household, make me lie awake at night shaking with frustration about how difficult this toddler makes it to love him. Her, this time.
Or maybe it's just this ongoing, persistent, relentless migraine. It's not the worst I've ever had, but when it's not actively striking, it's a constant undertow. It seriously drains my emotional resources and resolve, at a time when I'm faced with the most stressful child-raising moments.
Experience also tells me that reconciliation is instant and easy. All it takes is quietly stealing into her room and watching her sleep, listening to her breathe, touching her soft hair, and seeing her look so peaceful and so secure and so vulnerable. Despite her fierce displays, she's really just a baby.
5/4/08
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