This weekend my daughter had a full-on Terrible Twos meltdown.
I not kidding. It was a MELTDOWN.
It was the kind of demonic screaming fit you only normally witness on an episode of Supernanny or House of Tiny Tearaways – the episodes you watch and think ‘that has to be staged. No child can be that bad.’
Well my child was that bad.
Hubby and I just stood staring at her wondering who on earth had replaced our cute little girl with this screaming, thrashing, red-faced thing.
At one point a couple walked passed and I caught hubby trying to pretended the tear-stained monster, whose cheeks matched her red polka dot rain mac, wasn’t ours!
Really, it was that bad.
We had escaped to Centre Parcs for a relaxing (ha ha!) family break, and were looking forward to three days of cycling, walking, bonding and chilling out, with a couple of friends who have children the same age as ours.
Of course, their little girl – all big eyes and long blonde hair – barely raised her voice. Just acted all impossibly cute, making my daughter look even more demonic.
I wonder if they will want to come away with us again?
Really, if you haven’t witnessed a toddler tantrum it’s a sight to behold.
If it wasn’t so tear-your-hair-out stressful it would be funny. Of course it’s not funny if you don’t have children. You won’t have developed the Empathy Gene and so all you see is a frazzled mummy just standing there doing absolutely nothing why her child is shredding everyone’s eardrums.
No that’s not funny. That just reaffirms to them exactly why breeding is a VERY BAD IDEA.
The Possession happened as we were walking to a nice Italian restaurant for dinner, practically skipping along the tree-lined pathways on a lovely evening over the Bank Holiday.
Except Mia, of course, who wasn’t skipping. She was screaming at the highest decible she could muster.
The only break in screaming was when she took an unnaturally deep breath to push another ear-splitter out.
You can try to reason with them all you like. “What would you like me to do?” you ask.
All they hear is: “SCREAM EVEN LOUDER”
Then, in the middle of this full-blown meltdown, she spied a duck merrily swimming along in a flooded ditch. It looked so totally out of place and bizarre that she actually stopped screaming for a few quiet seconds.
The silence was deafening.
I could feel everyone hold their breath.
Then she glanced around and a look passed over her face. The look said ‘wait, wasn’t I just in the middle of something important? Why is everyone standing still around me?’
Then it dawns on her, and she takes one of those lung-filling deep breaths and starts all over again.
The following day I say: “Mia, you really upset mummy and daddy with all that screaming. What was wrong?”.
And she says all matter of fact: “You put Baby’s blanket on wrong.”
So there you have it. It’s official. It was all my fault.