The Mouth That Roared

Actually, it's the mouth that screamed. And it belongs to my daughter. A healthy pair of lungs on that one. The exciting this is that everyone within a square mile radius are aware of just how hale and hearty they are.

Just today she proved how loud she could shriek to all six teams playing soccer, including her own, at an elementary school field. She also impressed all the parents, friends, siblings, etc. who were lining the sidelines, the four tee ball teams on two separate diamonds on either end of the field, and everyone in the parking lot.

I actually ordered her to SCREAM LOUDER as I was carrying her, kicking and hollering, across those fields and to our car.

The whole exercise started when she complained she was HUNGRY during her game. There were like 10 minutes left. It was her turn to go play, and she instead whined and cried and refused to go in.

I told her either stop crying and go in and play, or we could leave. She didn't want to do either. So after going back and forth for a little bit with this, I'd had it. So I grabbed her, picked her up, and hilarity ensued.

Sawyer walked along beside me, and got injured by a flailing cleat. But even he looked impressed with my lack of Bullshit Tolerance.

Of course all the way to the car I'm having the classic internal dialogue of am I doing the right thing, did I lose my patience too quickly, how could I have handled this better, etc. I'd already committed, though, you know?

The lesson here for the kids wasn't so nebulous as the parenting angst swirling through my mind. For them, they learned that you DON'T MESS WITH MOMMY.



Luckily David was there and held the baby while I transported her. It was also fortunate because I put X and Sawyer in my car and stuck David with Little Miss Sunshine. She entertained him by screaming most of the way that she wanted candy when she got home. She also wanted to watch TV. Imagine her surprise when Daddy wasn't down with either of her visions.

She had calmed down by the time we arrived. She even ate a nice grilled cheese sandwich and didn't complain much when she noticed it was burned on one side.

The awesome thing about her tantrum ability is the way she can flip that switch more than once in a day. Just when you think you've seen the Tantrum To End All Tantrums, she outdoes herself.

This time, we had dropped Sawyer off for the miniature golf portion of a party. We had to kill an hour or so before we picked him up and then transported him to the pizza place. Sage was pretty good as we bought baby gates (I know! Finally!) and then went to an open house of a million dollar home.

But once we picked Sawyer up, a certain reality set in: she still was not invited to the party, so she would not be going to the pizza place. Worse, she would NOT get a goody bag.

David had to stop at the grocery store real quick to pick up a garnet yam for Xander's dinner. In the 7 minutes he was in the store, Sage worked herself up into a full roar.

It went something like this:

"I WANT A GOODY BAG!!!"

You're not getting one, because it's not a party for you.

"I WANT A GOODY BAG!! IT'S NOT NICE!!! IT'S NOOOOOOT NIIIIIIIICE!!!!!"

And then she bit Sawyer's finger. Not sure how she even got to it, but she's never bitten anyone in anger. Ever. Cleary she was upping her game.

Just then, David came back to the car. Cue the screaming. It continued all the way during the few minutes it took us to get home. She kept it up as I ordered her to her room. She refused to go. I threatened to drag her by her hair. She still didn't move, so I grabbed her ponytail and BOY did she run!

Okay, a little digression here, but if you haven't seen this video yet, check out the ponytail yank (and NO, I did not even tug Sage's ponytail, just grabbed it, so this isn't meant to be an illustration). This is simply an example of a player who just loses it - and it's a girl.



Anyway - Sage then came back downstairs, and this time David chased her back up. I wish I could describe the exact pitch of her shrieking and what it does to the inside of my brain. Think of a thousand nails scratching on a thousand chalkboards in a tiny room, and you have the general idea.

David and Sawyer left, and Sage came back down, promising to be nice. Her eyes were puffy, her cheeks red, and I actually felt bad that such a little person can expend such a huge amount of energy.

She snuggled with me on the couch. For the second time today, I forgave her.

Most important, she forgave me.