Oh yes, they have finally arrived. I have dreaded this day for months. They seem to have reared their ugly heads early, although maybe they are right on time. How would I know? I've read many books and articles about how to tame them, although none of this information has seemed to help me in my times of need. I'm talking about the freaking temper tantrums. Today was full of them! Kicking the legs, swinging the arms, slamming the fists, screaming, convulsing, bawling. All this from an eight month old. Lord, what do I have in store for me?
The tantrums started at breakfast. I tried to feed him yogurt. Big mistake. He hates all foods except for jar baby food. Anytime I have tried to give him something different, like a puree that I have made, yogurt, or finger foods, he starts gagging and throws up. He is very dramatic like his mama. But, I decided to give yogurt another try. Atleast this time he did not throw up. He just refused to open his mouth. He kept looking at the yogurt cup like, "Hmmm...that isn't the container my food usually comes in...better refuse it to be safe." Everytime I tried to give him a bite he would hit the spoon and send yogurt flying into my face, or grab the spoon and rub the yogurt all over his face and in his hair. He fussed. He fought. Finally, I tried to give him his jar baby food, but he refused, like he was punishing me for trying to trick him with the yogurt. More fussing. More fighting. Mommy finally gave up.
Next tantrum. Morning nap time. My son didn't want to take his nap (duh). So instead, he stood in his crib, holding on to the sides and shaking the bars like King Kong. Then, he threw his pacifier between the wall and his crib so Mommy had to climb under the crib and use a rattle to bat the pacifier out from underneath. When I left the room, he threw his pacifier out again. Not funny. So, I left that one under the crib and gave him a different one. He finally fell asleep.
Rinse and repeat for afternoon nap time. Now there were two pacifiers stuck between the wall and the crib.
Next tantrum. Diaper changing time. This is a recurrent temper tantrum. These tantrums began a couple of months ago and have just gotten worse. He HATES GETTING HIS DIAPER AND CLOTHES CHANGED!!!! It's bad. Today was the worst one yet. He had pooed in his diaper. These tantrums are always the scariest for Mommy and Daddy because his writhing body could sling poo in any direction at anytime. So, I'm changing his poopy nappy and he is wiggling all over the table. His face is turning red with anger, he aggressively twists his body to the left, then the right, back to the left. I can barely keep the poo from smearing all over the table. I am trying to be calm and I tell him to stop moving, Mommy needs to change your diaper...it isn't working. I start to yell instead. Stop Moving! Mommy Needs To Change Your Diaper! Not working. He starts kicking his legs and shimmying down the table until he is about to fall off, head first. Then he starts crying and slamming his fists on the table, tears falling down his red face. I have no idea what to do. You can't talk sense into an infant. You can't make them be still. I was so exhausted by the time it was all over that I had to sit down and spend a few minutes just catching my breath. And of course, he was perfectly fine the minute I put him on the floor. Happy as a lark.
Next tantrum. Dinner at Kobe. Okay, this was our first embarrassing incident in a public place. Horrible. We knew this day would come, but I was hoping maybe I had given birth to the rare child who loves sitting still in restaurant highchairs and is content just to people watch. Not so. When we arrive, I put our cover on the highchair (which takes me an unusually long period of time) and my husband clumsily slips our son into the chair. This being only our second restaurant highchair experience, we didn't notice the thin strap that is supposed to go in between our son's legs to keep from slipping. All of a sudden, Max starts sliding down in the chair and we catch him only right before he is about to hit the floor. He is understandably upset, we are understandably embarrassed, and all the other patrons are understandly staring at us. We tried to pull him up out of the chair, but his arms were wedged where his legs were supposed to go, so we were pulling and struggling to get him out. I had his left arm and Steve had his right. I'm sure it was amusing for everyone else. Atleast they had something to talk about at dinner. It was all downhill from there. Max then refused to sit in the highchair, probably for fear of his life, but he didn't want to be held either. He wanted to crawl around Kobe's floor, which of course we were not going to let him do. No toy would entertain him. Nothing would distract him. He was squirming out of our arms and we were ferociously trying to keep him from plummeting to the floor. He was grabbing for our food, throwing his toys and our chopsticks under the table, he stuck his fingers in Steve's wasabi and soy sauce mixture, which sent them both to the bathroom for hand washing. And...all the customers were staring at us. It wasn't my imagination, they really were. Whether they were feeling sorry for us or thinking we are incompetent parents, I'm not sure. Probably the latter. Especially if they were present to witness the highchair incident. After all this, we decided to take turns taking him outside while the other sat alone in the restaurant to eat. I told Steve to eat first and by the time I got back, my salmon and edamame were cold and I was ready to go home. We skipped getting the mochi ice cream, which was the reason we went to Kobe in the first place and we high-tailed it out of there.
Max is now asleep in his crib, possibly plotting more schemes for tomorrow. Even after all the fights today, he smiled at me in his crib tonight and I was his again...so in love, so in love. But, as I have said before, thank God we get to start over tomorrow.