Annabelle, approaching two and a half, has mastered the art of tantrums. I know there are moms out there who perceive the whiny, not getting what they want, fake crying, thirty second episodes that their sweet kids go through as tantrums. This is not what I am talking about.
What I am talking about it the fire breathing, head spinning devil having an seizure on the floor in the supermarket who takes deep breaths just to emit a glass shattering shriek long enough to ensure that any ear drum within twenty feet is bleeding. I'm talking about a child who can be laughing and happy and then hear the trigger word spoken by Mom (who is dying to know what that word might be so she can erase it from her vocabulary forever) and suddenly be throwing things, targeting breakables (and bruisables) with kicks, screaming that SHE wanted to place the butter on the checkout counter, but now what's done is done, there's no going back, the butter has already been touched and tainted by Mom, she's inconsolable and no amount of talking, bribing, threatening, or willingness to buy one or two more pounds of butter that will help.
These daily, sometimes twice daily occurrences have had me so burnt out that I have felt near the brink of insanity. But then Dave pointed out that I'm not the one who is insane, it's Annabelle who is acting like a psychopath. So this, coupled with the realization that my fantasies of running away were not healthy, I knew something had to be done.
So, with a little encouragement from my mom friends, we starting using time-outs.
In less than three weeks Annabelle has had about five time-outs. They have changed my life. She has her little time-out chair in the corner between the armoire and the stairs, she knows that a warning is a warning, she knows that she has to stay in the chair until she does whatever it was that she refused to do that got her landed there in the first place. And to my utter surprise: it works!!
Only two time-outs so far have been biggies, closely bypassing a dramatic power struggle, and required that we sit there (always together) for more than five minutes. But both of those times were also our biggest success stories, ending with her agreeing with Mom, doing the helpful thing I wanted, and then giving me a big hug and kiss. I love that she is so proud of herself for complying...
I'm sure there will be more on this topic. Stay tuned!
Doesn't it make your heart hurt? We were at a park watching dog trials, the kind where they run through tunnels, climb stairs and maneuver other doggy obstacle course challenges. This tantrum started because I wouldn't let her run into the pen with the dogs and do their tricks with them.
