Temper Tantrums

Whichever child invented these deserves to be stricken from all refined sugars and processed foods. Between "3 is the new 2" and "baby girl is a BIG girl," temper tantrums arose. I well understand Pumpkin's need to assert her own autonomy. However, all mothers, especially at home moms, deserve a get out of tantrum free card every 3 months which can only be redeemed with Haagen-Dazs present, a marathon of all new Grays Anatomy episodes and a facebook inbox brimming with fun and interesting messages. This scenario is, of course, one pedicure short of a Festivus miracle. There has to be another way.

At first, we tried the stairs. Even poor little Osbert had to take time outs for "unaseptable" behavior, but the stairs quickly became a play place, sliding down them like a ride, and less of a punishment. Sometimes Pumpkin wouldn't get up even though she could because she was having such a blast. Sean and I then decided to modulate the approach.

We tried the time out stool in the middle of the hallway: she fell backwards literally rocking it out as entertainment for her 3 long minutes and banged her head. We put it near a wall: she fell backwards between the stool and the wall. We put it against the wall: she banged her head against the wall in angst. Elminate stool. Tomorrow comes the welcome mat carpet square revolution. We'll see if this new tool will fascinate long enough to alleviate the brunt of Little Miss La Resistance. If not, I plan to personally call Super Nanny and inform her this technique broke at our house. Then I will insist she absolutely MUST visit in her zippy, square English car with a portable DVD video clip of Pumpkin bonking her sweet little noggin during time out. My fingers remain crossed.