Small victories

As Bee approaches turning two years old, she has become more and more dramatic.  She got angry tonight when David had to go out and run an, erm, errand.  (We didn't have sesame oil for our peanut noodles recipe, so we retreated from the kitchen and resorted to ordering a pizza.  I don't know whether it's a good thing or a bad thing that there is a take away pizza place less than two blocks from our apartment.)  

So, David was off picking up the pizza and Bee was angrily throwing my tennis shoes and crying that she wanted to go with her Daddy.  

I think Bee's tantrum stemmed from the fact that she didn't realize how much she had missed her father until he returned.  Tonight, she turned dinner from its usual 15 minute sit down to 45 minutes, perched on her father's lap, taking miniscule bites of her increasingly soggy pizza crust until we finally made her go take a bath.  

But I was talking about the tantrum. So she's yelling and carrying on and I'm too worn out from my marathon day at work to talk her down from the cliff.  My usual strategies are either to hold her and sympathize with her problem, without giving in, or to ignore the bad behavior. Really bad behavior, like hitting, earns an instant time out, but I try to use them sparingly.  All the yelling was getting on my nerves so I said, "Bee, I am going to go read some stories in your room." I walked away, without a word, went to her room, and began reading "Going on a Bear Hunt," which is one of Bee's top ten favorite books.  

Immediately, I hear, "NO BOOKS!" bellowed from down the hall. I pretend I didn't hear her and persist with the story, and she caves--stopped crying, came running even, climbed up on the couch and sat nicely with me while I read.  

Score one for parentdom.