Friday, October 10, 2008

Should not have boasted.

I should not have boasted. The novelty of counting has worn off (already).
So, I'm back to either using the deep mean voice that makes Jack cry, or simply taking things away from him and triggering a tantrum.

Tonight's tantrum over losing his privileges to my giant cocoa butter lip balm (which he was sweetly rubbing on his belly to reduce stretch marks, and then jabbing with his sharp fingers) started on the bed. He threw himself down face first, and, after a few dramatic seconds, started inching toward the edge. I helpfully placed him on the floor. After a few more dramatic seconds, he inched across the room, out the door, down the hall, was stopped by the door at the end, and complained there for several minutes. I walked down the hall and opened the door for him, then walked away. After several more dramatic minutes, he skidded his face across the carpet, and continued to complain his way onto the computer chair. A minute later, the whimpering turned to wailing. I think he got stuck in a standing position, and he'd knocked over the computer speaker. He agreed to allow me to pick him up, then cried quietly and nestled into my shoulder. He cheered up at the prospect of a story.

My child has combined his mother's sensitivity with his father's temper.


  1. Oh, so sweet. It sounds like a pretty comical tantrum. I laughed at the cocoa butter, BTW.

  2. Poor Jackson--those tantrums wear kids out (and mom). Miles will get mad and do downward facing talk with his head on the floor and them in an angry kind of spastic way run his head across the carpet--it is hilarious!