Saturday, April 3, 2010


Layla's a thug.  She has taken to threatening us with violence now.  Yesterday morning she woke up in a mood and told Mike to get out of her room or she would bite him.

Today when he put her in time out for something, she informed him that she was going to scratch him.

So far the threenage period has lived up to everything that I was promised.  There is so much ugly there at times, but she can be so damn sweet the rest of the time.  I guess that's normal, stretching her wings and testing limits and boundaries.  I just didn't think it would be done so violently.  Okay, that's not entirely true.  I'm not all that surprised that she has anger and attitude issues.  Mike and I were both, er, challenging.

Somewhere I have tucked away a book about the secret lives of toddlers, or something to that effect.  I have never read a parenting book, but it may be time that I pick this one up.  When my interventions with her are only escalating her and I find her one-upping me with her reactions and behavior, there is something wrong with what I'm doing.   She's supposed to be out of control and have a hard time managing her feelings.  I'm not.

But she makes me so god damn mad sometimes that it's hard not to just react with emotion.  Unfortunately that emotion that I'm usually feeling is anger.

I remember one of the first times that I felt as though I was going to lose it on her.  She was little, probably just over a year and we were out at the mall.  She wanted to push her stroller around, but somehow ended up in a full blown tantrum, scooting herself along the dirty floor with her heels, while laying on her back.  I let her go for a while thinking that she would burn herself out and would stop, but after about 100 yards and no sign of relenting I had to try something new.  And as I sat on the floor with her, in the middle of the food court trying to get her head from spinning, I felt like I was going to throttle her.   With every ounce of my strength I turned my head, and with teeth clenched so tightly I thought I would crack a tooth, I whispered "mother fucker" under my breath.  And found myself face to face with an 80 year old woman.


No comments:

Post a Comment