Messy buns and toddler tantrums

June 10, 2018

 

I’m not going to lie. These tantrums at the moment are next level. I thought that a late afternoon spent in our neighbourhood park would be a lovely idea. I was clearly mistaken. I could feel the sympathetic looks from strangers burning a hole in my back while I basically did a full gym workout running after Nunu/ keeping him out of the road/ pulling him away from the swings before another kid kicked him in the skull/ stopping him from stealing the older kids’ soccer ball/ locating our house keys out the long grass where he had dropped them/ trying to stop him from plunging to his death on the jungle gym.

Nunu usually loves the swings. These are usually the first thing he heads towards. Well, today he wriggled and screamed like I was a stranger trying to kidnap him. He didn’t want to walk. He didn’t want to be held. Our younger neighbours looked at me with pity as they came home from an amazing day out and were suddenly faced with a screaming one year old contorting his body in the middle of our driveway while his exhausted mom (with C-section muffin top poking out the top of her “active” wear with a messy bun tied tightly to the top of her skull) tried to carry him like a rugby ball into the house.

I know this is only the beginning. I know he is only trying to communicate and assert himself... but it’s flippen exhausting. I also don’t know how to handle the tantrums. Sorry, if you thought this was a piece written on how to manage temper tantrums, you need to find someone who knows what they’re talking about because currently I’m just winging this motherhood thing and using my blog to survive it.

I love this kid more than anything in the world and would do anything for him. I love that his epic personality is starting to emerge and that he knows what he likes and dislikes. But shoooweeeeeee is it hard right now. You’ve got to have the patience of a saint and forget you ever had a shred of dignity while you’re running after your screaming toddler with your crack on show and sweat dripping down your face. Hang in there moms, I feel your pain.   

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