Today Maggie is 18 months. We dropped the kids off at preschool and then went to the grocery store. Moe was a screaming, yelling mess.
At first of course I just ignored her and said sweet little things to her like, "Oh Mags, you don't need to be sad. I love you." She truly could have cared less. I started receiving some dirty looks from customers so I took her out of the cart to hold her. Certainly that would do the trick. Nope.
I then received several face slaps while the screaming continued. Then came the classic throw the head and arch the back. "Mags, would you like to walk?" Of course I said this sweetly. The tears were flowing (hers, not mine) the yelling continued so I put her down to walk beside me. I'm certain that wasn't what she wanted because she threw herself to the floor for her continued tantrum.
I picked her up and we proceeded to the cereal isle to get a box of granola bars that were not on my list. I hurried to put her in the cart and open up the package. Then I got out a choc chip granola bar and handed it to her. She chucked it on the ground. I picked it up and tried again. Same response. Then I grabbed a box of gushers that were not on my list. I opened up the box while she continued in anger. Opening up the little package she could see what it was. She grabbed them out of my hand and the crying stopped.
"Are you going to be happy now?" I was still able to manage a nice voice here.
"Uh huh" Maggie replied.
That's when I became completely aware that I was just worked over big time.
I should have known. The terrible two's always start at 18 months and then end at age four. Silly me for thinking otherwise.