The first and foremost thing I'd like to point out is the physical abuse both Tina and I take. Most of the time, Madison is a sweet tiny little girl. That all changes when she doesn't get her way, that's when she turns from Madison to Mad Dog. If you're holding Mad Dog, as I do when I put her into her car seat, you can first expect to get blindsided with a head bunt. Blindsided because you're holding her and fumbling with the straps of the seat. All of this is done in close quarters too, so she's a mere inch or two from your temple. One second you're moving the straps aside, the next you're seeing black dots, cursing, and about to pass out. Do you worry about yourself though? Nope, you check to make sure she doesn't have a bump or is hurt. Even though she's crying more so from not wanting to sit in the seat, rather than from pain. She intentionally does the head bunt, so now I wait for it and move my head so she misses.
Next you deal with the usual tantrum things such as kicking and screaming. Since this typically happens every day in the daycare parking lot, I'm pretty sure it looks like I'm beating Madison, just by the body movements. Think about it, she's head bunting, kicking, scratching, and screaming at the top of her lungs. My ducking and dodging probably looks like I'm pounding on her. If they only knew! Anyway, thank god she's not biting yet...I say yet because I'm sure its coming soon, I'll talk about why I think so later. So I'm dodging the blows, using defensive karate moves I learned watching Bruce Lee movies, and now its time to buckle her in. Suddenly there's silence?
This is the most troubling part to me, after all that fight not to go in, she's suddenly intrigued as I get the straps over her and is mostly fascinated at the locking mechanisms. Did I say fascination? No, I meant she's studying intently on the locking mechanisms. Madison has been studying these things as long as she's been able to see them. I fear that soon she'll discover the secrets of car seat belts and be able to break from the chains in the same fashion as Houdini. Then there will be no choice for Tina and myself...we'll have use bungee cords to keep her down. Seriously, think about it. We're driving along and she silently, one-handed, pops each buckle and crawls slowly out of the seat and WHACK! Head bunt to me and hurricane sidekick to Tina...
...Okay, a bit dramatic, but you get my point.
Believe it or not, that's the calmest tantrum Madison throws... that being in the car seat. You should see her at home when you take something away from her. First she runs from you like a criminal running from the police. Then once you've plucked the stolen object from her, she throws herself down as if all her bones suddenly melted. Then the fake crying and tears come. Tina and I make it a point to never give in, no matter how hard she cries. However, her disregard to the location she falls creates some pretty scary falls. She'll throw herself into a pile of toys, or knock into one of her push carts. Then she's legitimately hurt herself while throwing her tantrum. What do you do? Console her, thus harboring the tantrum that one time. Or let her feel the pain a little and say "see, don't throw yourself like that!" She also throws tantrums in your arms if you don't let her walk when she wants to walk. Again, you have to dodge the blows because she tosses her body around like a worm that's been living under a rock for a while, and then is suddenly exposed to the sun.
The worst thing she does now though, is bang her head on something purposely. Which reminds me of my brother who was once nicknamed Hammerhead because he would bang his head on the ground when he threw a tantrum. This is the uncle that I'm sure Madison got her temper from. I blame the other infants in the daycare for showing Madison how to unleash that temper in the form of a tantrum though.
Lord Have Mercy...
