Tantrums 101, by Small Fry

Small Fry wanted to give you all a little lesson in tantrums. In case, by some miracle of God, you are unversed. I present to you...

Tantrums 101, by Small Fry

For the first 14 months of your life, act innocently adorable. Sport beautiful hair bows, a toothy grin and up to three ponytails at a time, so that no one has any idea what you really have up your sleeve.

Watch your older brothers closely as they scream and run circles around each other, terrorizing the entire household on a daily basis act like boys. Take notes. Mental notes, since you don't know how to write yet.

Continue acting innocent and harmless until you hit 15 months. At this point, begin to tantrum when you can't have your way, but start slowly. First, just pant and whine a bit when your mama asks you to give the toy that you just pried from your brother's grip with your chubby little hands back to him.

Then, at the Community Center when it's time to leave but you don't want to go, arch your back and scream when your mama tries to put your purple snowsuit on you. Recover quickly, however, and smile and wave at your mama, so she'll be less suspicious that this is becoming a trend.

And then, when your mother least expects it, pull out all the stops in an attempt to see if you can push your normally calm maternal figure right over the freaking edge.

Begin the day in question by refusing to eat breakfast and follow that behavior up with determining to only take a 10 minute nap. When you awake, act refreshed so as to tempt your mother into thinking going out with you will be a wise idea.

When your mama does decide it would be wise to make a Target run with you and your baby brother, leaving your big brothers to go get the truck washed with your daddy, sit nicely in the Target cart and coo, smile, wave and say "Hi!" to everyone you meet. Grin and nod as you hear your mother quip to a stranger who tells your mama sweetly that she is "so brave" to shop alone at Target with two little ones, "Oh, this is nothing! I have two other little ones who are in the truck with my husband. So, honestly, being at Target with only two of our children is a piece of cake. A vacation, really!"

Laugh to yourself at the irony of what your mother is saying. But play coy and act charming so that she has no idea what lies just beneath the surface.

And then, when you hear your little brother start to grunt and snort in the sling, signaling that it is time for him to wake up from his snuggly nap and moan with hunger pains, decide that this is the perfect time to let 'er rip. As your mother hurriedly attempts to finish her Target shopping at a breakneck speed, Supermarket Sweep style, so as to hopefully finish before your little brother completely wakes up, ask for another bite of the soft pretzel your mama was nice enough to buy for you at the beginning of the shopping experience.

When she does offer you another bite, act horrifically repulsed. Look at your mama like she has completely lost her marbles. Grab the bite of pretzel and shove it between your legs in disgust and begin to scream. Wail as loudly as you can while attempting to get up out of the cart. Force your mother to choose between your safety and your brother's hunger and watch as as she juggles a crying infant in a sling while forcing you back down into the cart seat by your ankle. Arch your back and bellow as your mama stays completely calm and buckles the restraint around your heaving chest. Act as if something might be genuinely medically wrong with you. Cry so hard that you actually begin to go hoarse. Kick your feet, lose a boot, hold your breath so your face turns beet red and tantrum like there is no tomorrow.



Keep this up for approximately 38 minutes.

Scream and carry on and thrash about so much that you are oblivious to the fact that your mother stops to feed your brother, gets him back in the sling, captures four separate videos of you on her cell phone, and then calmly carries on with her Target run whilst pushing your tantruming self around in the cart.

Become a blathering, dribbling, mucousy, splotchy faced mere remnant of a girl by the time your mama reaches the checkout. Stop crying out of sheer exhaustion and muster a sweet smile for the checkout gal.

And consider it a job well done.

------------------------------------

And, on a happier note,



Stellan turned 12 weeks old today!!