Tantrums, Timeouts, and Terrorists

Tantrums, timeouts, and terrorists. Sounds like a day in the life as a mom. The amount of tantrums you handle each day is huge. When they are infants usually they cry because they need something. Every once in awhile your child will try to throw a fit around 9 months or so. They are frustrated because a toy won’t work or they can’t reach something they want to eat. Then they turn two and they up the anti. The tantrum is because they don’t want to come or they wanted something you told them no about.

Today the tantrum was over the wahwah (pacifier). J got into the car with me after a Doctors appointment and asked me right away for the wahwah. I didn’t respond but the next time she asked she screamed it WAHWAH!!!! I told her that she needed to ask me nicely or I wasn’t going to give it to her. This uped the level again WAAAHHHHHWAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I said no I will not give you the wahwah and then I turned the mirror so I could see her and I said if you scream at me like that again I will stop the car and spank your bottom. She didn’t ask me again for a little bit and when she did I told her she needed to ask nicely and she did so I gave it to her.

The other night we dealt with an 8 year old tantrum. This was because he was actually scared of something hurting but it was still a tantrum. He kicked and screamed, He ran outside, he tried to negotiate. Unfortunately he is becoming more difficult to convince (or better at negotiating) that what we are saying or asking is true or right. At this age he has his own opinions and definitely expresses them. I am pretty sure he thinks he could survive without us.

Sometimes the tantrums come in adult form. I definitely have thrown a few tantrums. I sometimes loose it (well actually I loose it a lot). There are times I certainly don’t want to deal with my emotions in the right way. I feel like laying on the floor kicking and screaming in my own tantrum. I don’t want to clean the house again, I don’t want to wash your clothes , I don’t want to do all this work and still have to be responsible for all these children that don’t act the right way anyway, no matter how many times I have tried to teach them this right way to act. I don’t want to keep my cool when they are screaming at each other and won’t stop fighting for the billionth time that day. I don’t want too, I don’t want too, I DON’T WANT TOO!!!!!!!

But I am their mother and unfortunately they are little mirrors of me. I like when they mirror the good things I do. It makes me feel proud. But boy is it convicting when they mirror the bad habits I have. A while back I was sitting reading my bible and writing in my journal and little J climbed up next to me. She wanted to write in my journal so I got one for her and she grabbed my phone (the bible was on it) and started scrolling down and writing a little and scrolling down more. THAT is precious.

Times outs are inevitable especially after tantrums. There have been times I have stuck all three boys in time out together holding hands. THAT’S my favorite way to give timeout for the fighting boys. Make them hold hands through the whole time. They sure do learn to sit and get a long a little better. Sometimes you negotiate with the little terrorist. You start walking into the store. OK guys lets all get along through the store. As time goes on you start saying things like . Be nice to your brother, stop pestering your sister. Then the real negotiations start happening. Mommy can I get this or that. No buddy we are just getting these few things and then we are out. Please, they start . No sweetie. Then they start wearing you down with fighting with their brother. You start saying again please stop fighting. Then an ingenious plan forms in your head, Bribery (terrorist negotiations) If you guys don’t fight the rest of the time I will buy these cookies. Well by the time you leave the store you are buying the cookies to shut them up from nagging you and they fight the whole way home. We don’t negotiate with terrorists. REALLLY? Just another day in the life of a mom.

Signing off from one woman to another.

Jenny Ren