And So It Begins . . . May It End Soon

For a few weeks now, or a bit longer, I've been noticing that certain scenes, particularly with the Small Child, make me lose my cool and shoot straight through the ceiling.  I couldn't figure out what is was, and my reaction was really bothering me.  Finally it dawned on me:

Tantrums.

Yep, Little Guy has finally figured out how to throw a rip-roaring tantrum, complete with teradactyl screams.  Fan-freakin'-tastic.

But now that I realize what's going on, my patience level has expanded exponentially.  I offer him help at the outset.  If it's clear that I can not be of any help, I'm now content to just let him be and sort it out on his own.  Or until he's ready to let me help him.

Because, let's face it--it's sure not going to help Joey's tantrum if I throw one, too.

Glad I figured that out in time!

Recovering from last night's colossal 2-hour long, 3-tantrum-in one fest.  Yikes.  He needed both the blanket and towel for comfort. 


May this be over sooner than later!

I'll take comfort in the hope that because he's throwing such spectacular tantrums now, someday he'll be the most pleasant 15-year-old on the planet.  Right?

Right?