Professional Marathon Tantrum Thrower

I love the "golden moments" of motherhood. Moms need to know they are loved and feed off of those good times, especially when it comes to dealing with a tired three year-old that can throw tantrums that would make a pro-athlete cringe.

My sweet little boy has entered tantrum age at full power. Not getting as much sleep due to the summertime later light hours does not help. It's always a question as to when the bomb will go off because it always does, one just doesn't know when. Yesterday we had two such tantrums. One over me having bought the wrong kind of milk, one with a red lid and not a blue lid. Curse me! It lasted for a good ten minutes and involved clinging to my leg and screaming while I tried to go upstairs to get the baby. Then we had a whooper later that day over a banana. I gave him one to eat on the way home from Grandma's. But the silly thing broke as he was eating it. Well, that did not suit and he began to scream and cry. I told him he could still eat it while in the peel if he just held it higher up, but that was like the stupidest suggestion ever because it just brought more tears. So I went to throw it away. He insisted on having it back and then cried about it being broken. Not wanting to spend all day fighting over a banana, I took it and threw it away. Holy cow! I must have mortally offended him or something because he then proceeded to cry for the next thirty minutes over his banana. I refused to give him a new one since nothing was wrong with the original piece of fruit and I have this "silly" thing about not wasting food. So he cried all the way home and at home during lunch. He just kept following me around yelling my name, but if I got near him he'd run off and if I tried to leave the room he's yell for me. Hmmm. I think by that point my brain was ready to explode. Somehow we got it all resolved without me giving in. I tell you, he has the endurance of a marathon runner.

That is why I found it very sweet and tender when today after I helped him get dressed he threw his arms around me and said "I love you, Mommy!" Awe. It's those little moments that make it all worthwhile.

They say "if it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger." That's great and all, but I'm more concerned about coming through motherhood sane. What are the chances of that?