Ok, someone took my semi-normal three-year old and replaced her with an oh-the-drop-of-a-hat-sends-her-into-full-tantrum-mode child.
I kid you not, her tantrums will be legendary one day. You can't predict them. You can't anticipate them. And, you can't manage them. You can only walk away....quickly....and pray that she stops when she realizes she doesn't have an audience.
(Sidebar: I'm watching the recap from last night's Dancing--yes, I'm addicted--and the worst female performance for the foxtrot BY FAR goes to Leeeeza. Wow. It was bad. And her mambo wasn't much better even though she did receive an acceptable score...not sure how that's possible.)
So back to my child. I don't know what to do except to hope that it's just a phase. She's so familiar with the timeout process at this point that I could probably just look at her and point and she'd know what to do. Not only that, but her *stuff*, you know, the *stuff* she carries with her EVERYWHERE--puppy, the blue and red ponies, the small Dora dog and her favorite vanilla chapstick--and loves so much it pains her to part with it? Oh trust me, all of that stuff is equally as familiar with the timeout process--one that involves sitting on the refrig for a predetermined amount of time--and really wants her to start behaving too.
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