"YOU PROMISED I COULD GET IN HIS CRIB WITH HIM! YOU PROMISED! AND YOU BROKE YOUR PROMISE AND YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BREAK YOUR PROMISES AND THOSE ARE THE RULES!!" (insert sobs here)
So, after some ignoring, some more crying, and finally some breakfast, things were fine. A bit later, I was drying my
Me: "Honey, I'm getting ready so we can get you to school on time, but I can help you with that after school."
Mini-Diva: "NO! YOU NEED TO HELP ME WITH IT RIGHT NOW! IF YOU DON'T DO IT RIGHT NOW, I'M GOING TO GET REALLY UPSET!"
Me: "I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm not helping you now. Especially since you're talking to me in such an ugly way."
MD: "I'M GETTING REALLY MAD NOW! I'M MAD AT YOU!"
So, some screams come out of her, the baby brother gets upset, and what do I do? The only reasonable thing I can think of: carry her out of my bedroom, close the door, and lock it. Yes, I locked my child out of my room. And? I didn't even feel bad about it.
After that, the morning went fine. The drive to school was pleasant, the dropoff was REALLY pleasant (kidding. sort of), and I'm hoping for a sane rest of the day. Hoping against hope.
My girl has ALWAYS been a bit, shall we say, tantrum-prone. She is also the sweetest, most loving, sensitive little girl I know. I am filled with love and frustration all at the same time. At least I can take solace in the fact that she only acts up with family, and is a perfect angel at school, on playdates, and generally in public. I have created the illusion that I am raising a perfect child, and hey, perception is reality, right?