Saw this and cracked up!
How PMS helped me to understand my toddler
posted: September 8, 2013, 3:32 pm
I tell people that I’m a stay-at-home mom, but what I really should be telling them is that I supervise crazy people all day. My toddler is well underway in her second year, and now I understand the phrase “terrible twos.”
I’m so wildly confused by her day-to-day behavior, and it makes it even harder for me because I’m one of those people that likes to use reason. There is absolutely no reasoning with a two-year-old. C asks for water. I pull out a sippy cup, she watches me fill it, even asks me to put the lid on the cup for her, but once I hand it to her, she melts down. The tears start pouring, the mouth opens into an agonizing wail, she falls on the ground and rolls around as I stare dumbfounded, cup in hand, wondering what just happened.
This is how almost every daily activity goes. She asks for cheese, I give it to her, she cries. She wants to go outside, I open the door, she cries. There is no pleasing a toddler’s emotional state.
As my husband and I were laying in bed the other night, we were discussing the day’s woes. He said to me “I wonder what it’s like to not have any control over your emotions.”
That’s when it hit me. I do know what that feels like. I get to feel this once a month, every month, and for nine straight months during each pregnancy. I only had to say “remember that one time when we brought the chair home?” and I saw the horror flood my husband’s eyes.
Let me tell you about “the chair” and why I now have a bit more sympathy for my over-emotional child…
It was a crisp, winter evening, pre-kids. Aunt Flo was scheduling her
visit soon, and I was a bit moody. We had ordered this gorgeous leather
reclining chair 14 weeks prior, and we had just received the call that
it was finally delivered and ready for pick-up. I was upstairs reading
in the bedroom when my husband brought it home. He brought it in, placed
it in the living room, and then came upstairs to get me. I was excited
to see it, until I came downstairs and saw where he put it. In his
defense, he only brought it in, he didn’t actually place it where he
thought it was going to stay permanently. Apparently, this was all too
overwhelming for me. I started to cry. Then I started pushing our
existing couch around, gathered up the area rug from underneath it, sat
on the mound of rug and bawled. I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe. My
husband stared at me with eyes opened wide. I only remember looking up
at him through puffy eyes and saying “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Hormones do crazy things, but I guess so does early emotional development.
Now, since I feel like I can better relate to these meltdowns, I can react to them better. Going back to that previously mentioned sippy cup. When C starts to get upset, I say “Okay, I’m going to set this cup right here, and when you’re ready for it, you know where it is.” And when she cries, I hold her through it and let her cry. It seems to be working really well so far. When she’s old enough, in about 19 more years, I’ll show her the secret of handling runaway emotions with chocolate and wine.