Police whistle in an enclosed space

Not to dive right back in on a complaining note, but, well, sometimes real life involves some ear-piercing moments.  And some days include many, many, many of those moments.  Today was one of those days.  For Sylvia.  And me.  And me and Sylvia.  My dearling daughter, who is in large part a complete joy and delight, is also sometimes such a challenging little person for me.  In the last month she has stopped napping during the day.  That change has resulted in smooth, happy bedtimes, but it has also meant that my dear girl gets very tired off and on throughout the day.  And a tired Sylvia is a girl who has decreased ability to regulate her mood.  Which can be a frightening thing to contemplate.

When Sylvia is well fed and well rested, she can take life’s bumps and turns with great aplomb.  But.  but.but.but.  When she’s hungry or tired, sometimes the world just seriously needs to watch out or get out of the way.  Steer Clear.

She gets notably sleepy in the early afternoon (when she used to nap), but I’ve found that on some days, she also has a really hard time throughout the morning.  And for Sylv, a hard time means a lot of shrieking and throwing of things.  It means she’s playing a lovely game or riding her trike and then <poof> she erupts and all that’s left is smoke and bits of sizzling ash.  This morning, her screams echoed through the house off and on for hours.

Andrew spent the morning at a nature camp, and while we were going to pick him up, Sylvie threw an all-out, 10-alarm fire tantrum.  Her shriek was like a police whistle, blowing first staccato and then a sustained note complete with a whistle-like tremolo.  Although we had the windows closed, pedestrians walking on the street looked up with alarm as we drove by.

On the way to get Andrew (maybe a 10 minute drive), I was calm and tired and rather fed-up, so I tried a different tactic – mockery.

Me: “Oh, that’s only mediocre screaming,” I noted.  “I’ve heard much louder.”

Sylvia: <shriek>

Me: “You know, that one was alright, but really, I expect more.”

Sylvia: <sustained scream>

Me: “Your Aunt Maretta can scream much better than that.”

Sylvia: <clearly surprised by this one.>  She  pulls herself out of her hysteria, and asks, “Uncle Kyle scream too?”

I’m not proud of mocking my daughter in her time of great sadness and fury, but it was all I had in me at the moment.

Unfortunately, after picking up Andrew from his camp, she started tantrum-ing again when we got back in the car.  I told her it wasn’t acceptable and that I would have to give her a spanking if she kept doing it.  I gave her to the count of three, and she screamed at me after each count.  So I took her out of the car and gave her bare bottom a couple swats.  I’ve done that a couple times in the past.  I’m not sure where I fall on the spanking issue.  I never really really spanked Andrew, but with Sylvie I am sometimes just at a loss for how to get through to her and to make her boundaries clear.  The drive home again wasn’t fun.  Post-spanking, Sylvie upped the ante on her screaming.  I watched in the rear-view mirror as Andrew’s face got redder and redder, his hands pressed tightly over his ears.  Then he was openly weeping saying, “Pllleeeeaasee, Sylvia.  STOP!!”

I passed a scooter whose driver wasn’t wearing a helmet, and my thought was that minivan drivers should wear big hard-sided helmets because maybe then my head would not crack open like an overripe watermelon due to the screaming of a two-year-old.

Ahhh, yes.  FORTUNATELY, upon returning home, we all made up, and them Tom came over to watch Sylvie while I took Andrew for his 5-year-old doctor’s appointment.  And Sylvie was a total peach for Tom.  And after getting home from the doctor’s the rest of our day went just fine.  In fact, the spanking seemed to have a good effect in that Sylvie brought it up a couple times and remembered how after the spanking we hugged and said that we love each other and she remembered that it happened because she was yelling in the car.  So maybe things will go better in the future.

Maybe, maybe these recent days of increased intensity will mellow a little as she gets used to not napping or as she gets closer to Three (in February).  Or maybe not.  In any case, when this little girl of mine is in a good mood, she is such fun to be with.  I just love her to pieces no matter the mood.  She’s an energetic little spite, my girl!