We have had three of these in the past 2 weeks or so, which I guess isn't bad odds, but since I literally just got done dealing with one I thought it would be a good time to tell all the internets about my horrendous daughter. :)
As usual, this one started with no good rhyme or reason. She woke up fine...pleasant even, and after changing her diaper she jumped up on my bed to watch her show and have her milk (her normal morning routine). For whatever reason, she decided that she didn't want that particular show and started demanding a different one. Of course I told her no because...well because she was being ridiculous. She gets to watch PBS in the morning and she gets whatever happens to be on that channel at the time she starts to watch. But apparently since the days of DVR's she feels that if she doesn't like the particular episode at the time she should be able to demand a different one.
So when I told her no, it started. She started screaming at me to put another one on RIGHT NOW! And when I calmly told her no for the fourth time she took her milk and threw it at me. I walked over to it and picked it up and told her, "okay now you don't get your milk. We don't throw things." She I went into the kitchen to put her milk up on the counter and she followed me around for at least 10 minutes crying and screaming at me. While all of this is happening I was telling her "10 minutes until we get dressed...5 minutes until we get dressed...getting dressed in 2 minutes..." Of course she was yelling NO!! every time I would say that. So when it was time, I took her in and she went postal. And she's strong!! I was able to take her jammies off, but when I went to put her shirt on she screamed and twisted and pulled so hard on her shirt that she actually ripped the seam. So rather than KILL HER, I walked out of the room. So she was on her changing table in just a diaper. She got off the changing table and came into my room where I was putting on my makeup SCREAMING at me. I should note that this is not just some annoying toddler cry she is doing. She is SCREAMING at the top of her lungs like someone is trying to put her toe nails out. So while I was putting on my makeup she walked over to me, picked up a toy clock that was on the floor and hit me in the leg with it as hard as she could. Charming, isn't she?
So she was grabbed by the arm, told in an extremely forceful tone that we don't hit and pulled into her room where the door was shut behind her for a time out. So then she proceeded to stand in there, again SCREAMING, and also kicking her door as hard as she could. And then crying even harder because apparently it hurts to kick your door with all of your might with nothing on your feet. I left her in there for a few while I finished putting on my makeup and trying to get The Boy ready at the same time (aren't mornings fun!?!?). When I went back in, she had been trying to rip off her diaper and had basically shredded the entire thing into tiny pieces on her floor. And then she had peed on them for good measure.
I managed to get another diaper on her but there was no chance that the clothes were going to make it on over the tantrum. And at this point it is time to go. I'll be damned if The Boy is going to be late to school simply because his sister is being an asshole, so I grabbed her clothes and shoes, put them all in a bag along with her milk, and loaded up the car. When I went back to get her she started yelling at me that I needed to get her dressed. I reminded her that I had tried to do that...TWICE, and that she had made the choice for that not to happen.
"I need to have my clothes on..." she sobbed.
Bummer. No time for that now kid. So I scoop her up in her diaper and carry her out to the car and shove her into her car seat. I threw a blanket over her for good measure (I believe it was about 57 degrees outside at the time) and got in and started driving to her brother's school. She screamed and sobbed for about 5 minutes and then stopped.
All of a sudden she goes, "Mommy...there is a big white truck!"
And just that like, she's done. She was perfectly fine...the sweetest, most adorable version of herself. She goes, "Mommy...can I have my milk?" I handed it back to her and she said thank you and drank it nicely and handed it back to me. When we got to The Boy's school, I feel like an asshole in the car line because I have a naked 2 year old in the back of the car with her hair not combed at all (she is usually all spiffy when we drop brother off to school), and her face a snotty mess...she was looking special, let me tell you. I just smiled at his teachers and said, "It's been one of those mornings," and, like anyone who has kids, they just smile and pat me on the back and take The Boy.
As we were driving to her school she asks in her quietest, most sweetest voice ever, "Mommy...can you put my clothes on before I go into my school?" Sure. Can't think of anything I'd like better. So when we pull up I got her dressed in the car before I carried her in and apologized that they would need to do her hair, which of course they have no problem doing.
She runs up to me, throws her arms around me and says, "Good bye Mommy! Have a good day. Have fun with you clients!" and dashes off to play with her favorite teacher.
She's a piece of work. Someone please tell me this is just an age thing and not a personality thing because I can't even imagine how hard she is going to be as a teenager. I'm not sure if I'm going to make it. :)