Look, I know we'll never understand each other it. Trying to get you is like trying to rationalize with that girlfriend who had too much to drink and thinks it's okay to dial every single one of her exes. You're not hearing me. But considering you pop up regularly inside my sweet toddler, I thought it would be fitting to write you a letter in an attempt to get you to see my side of things.
First things first, do you mind giving me a heads-up before you make your appearance? You know, nothing too obvious but some kind of sign would be nice. I'll refrain from telling you about that embarrassing meltdown that we had in Target. Granted, most kids seem to think Target is the ideal location to have meltdowns. But this was completely random, because I didn't expect it. Kid had snacks. Kid was entertained. Kid wasn't bored. Within minutes, though, you managed to change my seemingly satisfied child to a pint-sized ball of terror. How did you do this?
What's with the randomness? I have to find some humor in you to keep my sanity, but do you mind explaining this? No seriously, enlighten me. For the past week my child requested cereal for breakfast. Attempting to beat her at her own game, I went ahead and prepared her a bowl of cereal one morning only for her to melt to the ground in a toddler puddle screaming and crying, "I won oatmeal. No cereal!" I mean, the girl lost her mind over something that brought her great joy each and every day.
How do you even manage to do that? Do you seep in my daughter's brain overnight to plant a seed?
I know it seems like I'm ganging up on you, and I don't want you to feel that way. I know that you have to exist. No kid goes through life without having at least one temper tantrum. Learning how to deal with them is my job as a parent, but I really think life would be better for all of us if you just, you know, made some sense.
For example, that whole ordeal about my daughter not wanting to be put in her car seat was just ridiculous. It was as if a switch went off and she decided that she wanted nothing to do with car seats. Mind you, earlier that day, she was fine with getting in that seat. But after picking her up from daycare, she screamed and hollered and put up such a fight that I felt like I needed a glass of wine afterwards. I'm thinking we need to get the girl in some kind of gymnastics, because the way she elongated her entire body to be as stiff as a board was almost impressive.
I imagine that you were somewhere laughing at me while watching this happen.
Please, let's work together. You hook a mama up with some warnings, and I'll try my hardest to pacify your presence and slowly ease you out of my darling little angel.