Weeks leading up to Tara's 3rd birthday, which was last November, my sweet little girl suddenly morphed into this pesky little kid. It was really hard handling her. Especially when Bob and my PILs wasn't in town and I have to do it all alone.
I gritted my teeth and hope for the day where the tantrums will be over, the fights, the screamings and her unreasonable behavior. I'm the kind who always see the light at the end of the tunnel, good days will come after bad, and sun will shine after the rain. So for a while, I managed to keep my cool and patiently tried to discipline my little baby.
But it went on longer than I can take. And soon, I lost my cool, my patience wore thin, and exasperation took over. It didn't help that Bob travelled more often and it was even worse when my PILs weren't around. I have to handle the little pesky one all by myself.
I dread every day that comes. Trying to get her ready for school became a challenge. Getting her to wear her shoes became a 15 minutes affair, coupled with screaming and crying. It was a lot of "I don't want this, I don't want that" from her. Even if I tried waking up earlier than usual, I'm still late for work in the end. She refused her milk, refused to wear her clothes, don't want panties without princess, and don't want to wear shoes all. There are times she tried leaving the house with just panties on. Try to get her to wear pants? Be prepared for at least 15 mins of meltdown and lots of shouting (by me) before she finally relented.
By the time I dropped her off at school, she already zapped 60% of my energy. I went to work feeling frustrated, weary and totally puzzled at her behaviour.
Then the time for me to pick her up from school. Tantrums start the minute she stepped out. Bringing her out for dinner alone was a big challenge too. I would ask her umpteen times if she needed the toilet and her answer was always no. But the minute the food was served, she wanted to go. When I told her later, she would go into a major prissy fit. I was finally one of those mothers who can't handle her kid and let her roll on the floor and scream while I look on helplessly. And I thought that would never happen to me.
When we finally reached home, I already felt my energy all gone. But that was before making her take her shower, and putting her to bed. More screamings, cryings and resistings. And when I finally got myself ready for bed, it's already 1am in the morning. And I'm totally drained out.
It was really amazing how I got through all that. I almost gave up. I questioned myself if I'm a good mother. I asked what I did or what I didn't do that caused her to behave like that. And finally, I asked, when would all these be over.
Slowly, I dreaded going home. When my PILs around, I literally went missing. There was even once I was home around Tara's bedtime, and I sat down at the garden waiting for her to sleep before I dared to venture home. I look at Tara as though she was a stranger, some kid left in my care, and I slowly felt detached from her.
For a few weeks, I lost my appetite and took little food. I was depressed, completely stressed out.
There was one night, when I tried to put Tara to bed, she went into one of her many prissy fits again. Asked for milk then not wanting it when I gave her the bottle. And I completely lost it, I hurtled the bottle at the wall, screamed at the top of my lungs and finally broke down. I sat there crying. Not knowing what else I can do, I sat on my bed, totally helpless. And what did Tara do? She cried, saying I broke her bottle. But after a while, sensing something was wrong with Mummy, decided it was best not to agitate me further and left me alone to sob while she fell asleep. I look at her sleeping soundly and tears flowed even more.
The next night, I asked her if it was okay Mummy don't go home after work. As in literally don't go home at all. She don't understand what I meant. And I don't really mean what I said.
Bob couldn't stand her behaviour anymore and bought a cane. I had bad caning experiences as a child so I hate the idea of discipliining with cane. I was even angry with Bob for buying that cane. But what I didn't expect was, I was the first one, actually the only one, to use it on Tara, on a day where she insisted on going out barefooted. When I saw that red cane mark on Tara's leg, I regretted already. And my heart broke into a thousand pieces.
Still, the pesky behaviour went on for another few months. Bob finally saw that I was getting depressed. I asked for a vacation without Tara, he agreed immediately. And he would arranged for his parents to be here when he had to travel. He didn't even complained when I went out almost everyday and neglected the house and the kid. I guess I was in a bad shape then. My colleague even recommended me a counsellor. I stopped all plans of making baby 2. I know of people who questioned at my ability to handle the kid, I doubted any too. But I guess not all women are made to be mothers?
It took me quite a long time before I was able to sense any enjoyment in Tara's company. And after 7 long months, I finally was able to look at my kid with some adoration.
I still didn't know what causes the change in her behaviour that time. My mum told me might be the bad chi in my house. And of course I dismissed that.
The days of prissy tantrums were finally over. And Tara had become this sensible little adult, witty and funny, and I can't help falling in love with her all over again.
