Dealing With Tantrums

My son is the size of a two year old – with the strength of an ox. It seems my son’s tantrums are getting worse as he age. He kicks, he screams, he throws his head around like a wrecking ball, he rolls around on the floor, he cries big old crocodile tears, and screams on the top of his lungs. It doesn’t matter where we are, if he doesn’t get his way, he’ll throw one faster than you can say “no”. I used to call him Quick-Draw McGraw because of how fast he throws tantrums over the the smallest things.  He’s the fastest in the West – and the East.

When he throws one of his famous tantrums, I just sit him down and look at him. If I need to finish cooking, I just walk away and let him have it. There’s nothing I can do to stop the tantrums because I’m stubborn. If I mean no, that’s exactly what I mean. So if he can’t have something, he’s not going to get it. I put my foot down and he hates it. He doesn’t realize yet that I’m very patient and when it comes to kids throwing tantrums in public, I can’t be embarrassed; and I don’t apologize to bystanders. You can’t control a mad baby because they can’t control their emotions. Getting him to calm down in the past has resulted in a black eye, a busted lip, and loose teeth. I learned my lesson after the loose teeth. Wrangling a child the size of a 2-year-old is not wise when they are as strong as a bull. It’s best to put them on the floor and let them have it.

We’ve been in doctor’s offices where he was plotting to rip up all the magazines on the coffee table. I saw his plan in motion and I nipped in the bud. He was thoroughly upset and people watched, and so did I. He realized that his tantrum wasn’t getting the desired results, so he quit. He eye-balled the magazines and I eye-balled him. He’d look at me once in a while to see if I’m looking at him and yea, I’d be staring him down and he just act like the magazines don’t exist. He’ll play with the toys, but not after he gets my smile of approval, though. For some reason, he needs confirmation because in his little head, I’m the wicked witch of the west and I’m the one who tells him what he can play with and when.

I don’t stress myself over his tantrums because we both know they won’t last long and I’ll wait till he’s done.

If this is what I’m going to have to deal with until he’s about 10 I guess, then, someone is in for quite a few rude awakenings and I’m not sure who, yet.

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