Let The Tantrums Begin

So here we are, not quite a week after Tony P's second birthday, and already I'm feeling the strain of the monster tantrums. This morning, in an effort to get my girls out the door on time for school, I was (nicely) telling them to hurry, go faster, get your coats on, hurry, go faster, PLEASE get your coats on (I really wish I lived in Florida today - oh, to have no coats!). The girls were sort of complying, and I was feeling like for once, we might be able to walk out the door on time. However, I hadn't taken into account Tony P's whereabouts. Where was he? After finding him hiding behind the couch, I tried to drag him to the front door so I could get his coat on. Let's just say my son is very good at wiggling. I'm sure you have all experienced this before. You reach for the child, he straightens his arms directly over his head and flops on the ground like a wet fish. I myself have spent many hours with children in this position, trying to get various items of clothing on. But this particular morning, with this particular child, seemed to be the worst. I was so frustrated by the time I actually got his coat on that I picked him up over my shoulder (sack of potato style, for anyone who knows what that means), told my girls to get in the car (no longer using my patient voice), and slammed the door behind me.

What they don't tell you when you have children is that when they turn 2 and start having tantrums, your tantrums will return in full force. If I screamed at the top of my lungs and fell on the floor like a dead fish every time someone told me to do something I didn't want to do, the only result would be a sore throat and a lot of bruises. I guess for now, I'll stick with slamming the door...but the alternative is soooo tempting.