The Tantrum of All Tantrums

The “terrible twos” suck. And with respect to my now 3 year-old – they really did “BIG TIME!”  However, I (we) survived. Now, at 3, the tantrums, while much less frequent are 100-fold more disturbing and disruptive to anyone within a mile (or two) radius.

 

On Monday, C (now 2), A (now 3) and myself (age not disclosed) went in for our 6 month dental exams. We had a bit of a rough start to the journey. It is winter and A refused to wear a coat. In retrospect I should have known that something was looming.

 

Parking lot – waiting room – dental exam, it was all fine. Not fine. It was GREAT. It could not have gone any better - my two lovely soft dimpled daughters, walking, one at each side, holding my hands as their boots rustled over the various colored leaves, greeting strangers on route. They sat, read books, patiently waited their turns and even engaged some women in a bit of banter. They were nauseatingly good.  Quite frankly, I think they caused the biological clocks of women in the room to start ticking (tick tock tick tock) and rush home in search of a mate (think movie Species).  Two granny’s in the room began reminiscing “What a sweet age that is!” one whispered to the other.   But then, out of nowhere, it all quickly went sour.

 

As I was waiting to book our next 6 month appointments, I glanced over at A, who, up until this point had been sat calmly, leafing through a children’s book with her “good girl sticker” proudly on display. She began to fidget and jumped out of her seat. She returned to her seat for about 5 seconds, before once again, springing out of her seat, sprinting towards the 70 year-old woman sat across from her and vaulting into this woman’s laps, finishing it all off with a chuckle. The unimpressed woman “tisked” her and I was in utter shock at what I had just witnessed.

 

Apologizing to the lady myself, I attempted to reprimand A, who proceeded to cry and scream at the top of her lungs. I tried all of the supermom techniques, getting down to her level, speaking calmly, asking her if something was wrong and the shouting just continued and escalated. The supermom techniques then went out of the window. “We are going to the car. Let’s go now!” I shouted. Her volume increased. At this point all of the phones in the dental office began to ring, the receptionists couldn’t hear their callers, visitors began putting their hands over their ears, two people walked out and everyone left began glaring at my child.

 

Of course, I fumbled to find my keys and dropped my iPhone. It must have been about 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the room. A decided she was not going to budge and maintained her outrageous and constant tone while managing to lock her knees and cement her now webbed feet into the floor such that I could not even lift her away. Impeccable. Really.

 

She lost focus to stop and take a momentary breathe and I finally managed to lift her up and out (still screaming, horns now protruding from her scalp) and I got about 10 feet out of the door when I realized that I had left C behind, quietly sat in a chair. I then had to re-enter the office with A, (A still screaming of course) to retrieve C. I was given a sort of death stare as soon as I opened the door. At this point C was in tears because “I had left her behind.”

 

As I clumsily made my way out, I could see the lead receptionist (who is always incredibly friendly) mouth, “See you soon” and smile at me. I can’t really remember how we got back to the car, but it must have been messy. I just know that we got there somehow and they were both strapped into their car seats, SCREAMING.

 

I sat in the driver’s seat, ignition still off and sank into my seat attempting to tune out the shouting and I cried quietly into own hands before driving home.

 

All in a day’s work I guess.

 

 




gabriela @ caramel&cocoa

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