I was reminded when struck with the double-whammy this evening of having to bring her in from outdoors and change a stinky. Naturally, this egregious offense on my part resulted in a major tantrum, no doubt made worse by the need for dinner. But I was in no mood to scrape food off the walls, and Katrina made it quite clear that's where it was going the moment I sat her down in her high chair. I took her out, and she re-assumed yesterday's posture on the ground, on her back kicking and crying, pretty much in the middle of the kitchen.
Great. Fine. Again. It figures. Brace myself. Deep breath. Batten down the hatches. Here we go.
I had nothing to lose by giving the cool-down idea another shot. Without a word, I unceremoniously moved her to a corner of the family room, out of sight. She threw herself on the ground again.
And then you know what the little sneak did? Tantruming all the way, she pushed herself on her back with her feet, in a perverse cockroach-like catwalk, all the way back to her original spot, kicking and crying the whole way. If she was going to throw a tantrum, I was damn well going to see it!
So I moved her back to the corner, without a word or any reaction at all.
And again, she made her way back, on her back, kicking and screaming the whole way, to the same exact spot. She did this with some stealth, not in-your-face, as though her distress just happened to bring her back, and then just happened to keep her there. Funny, that.
The little stinker! This was just for show!
So I tried (again) not to be an audience. It's hard, because she was right in the middle of everything and made it hard to hold normal conversation with the boys. But then, right before dinner, "normal" conversation with the boys involves a lot of yelling anyway. I turned the radio WAY up, and sang to myself and danced around while I got the final parts of dinner ready. The boys were unusually cooperative, aware that they'd been upstaged. They sat down to dinner while the tantrum raged on.
I put a sippy-cup of milk and a bowl of broccoli on her chair, within reach, in case she really did get hungry. And whaddya know, the little rat actually did get up and grab her milk when she thought I wasn't looking, then lay right back down to resume the performance.
After I had the boys settled down to dinner, I was able to tackle Katrina. I know from experience that even the tantrumer gets tired of the tantrum after a while, but doesn't know how to get out of it, and welcomes a graceful exit.
So I quietly picked her up and sat her in the high chair in the dining room, where her brothers were making pig-sounds and bathroom talk (great), and quickly put myself out of sight. No eye contact, no talking. Zoom in with a bowl of food, a spoon, some hidden crossed fingers, a round of giggles from foul-mouthed little boys...and we were done. Whew.
No good photos today, just one crummy one. The boys like to run along some bushes and then back down a sidewalk on the way to the car, after Gabriel's piano lesson. Today Gabriel and a piano classmate stopped to laugh together too. I sure hope they don't do that during the class.
I love these moments with my boys; they're both filled with joy at their reunion and find fun in the simplest things together.
Unfortunately, we couldn't just go home. First, another pickup. Boy, am I looking forward to not having another 45 minutes of rush-hour driving afterward to get their normal, healthy, energetic, lively, adorable (ahem!) little sister.
5/5/08
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