Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Untold Depths Of Wrath

Mostly, I find Max charming. He is (and I say this from an entirely unbiased place) an attractive, happy, pleasant person who exudes joy and constantly makes us laugh. In contrast to all of this, however, we have begun a phase that falls well below a ten on the enjoyability scale for Ian and I. Yes, I am afraid that Max has learned the art of the temper tantrum. In this picture, he is mid-pterodactyl-like scream because I have just told him that he may not have any more cereal puffs. Note that his entire being, from the scalp on down, has turned red with the force of his ire.

Max has been tending to confine these fits of wrath to home, maintaining his facade of supernaturally mellow baby in the presence of grandparents, friends, and random passerby, and assuring that I will get no sympathy when I try to describe his dark side to others. A few days ago, however, his mask of angelic babyhood developed a crack, and an entire grocery store can now bear witness to my burden. When we passed the dairy aisle, Max suggested that we pick up some milk. ("Meek, Mama? Dada? Meek. Meek!") Since we already had two full gallons at home, Ian and I declined. Evidently disagreeing with our decision, Max immediately let out an unpleasantly high-pitched wail and began pounding the grocery cart handle. Other shoppers looked over in alarm, and upon spotting an irate baby instead of a wounded boar, gave us either an irritated glare or a sympathetic chuckle, depending on their temperaments. His tantrums are generally pretty short-lived (which is why we are keeping him, on a trial basis), and so he had stopped screaming by the time we got to the check-out stand, but he was still muttering to himself and letting out the occasional pained shriek all the way home in the car. Even when offered proof that we had plenty of milk in the fridge, he continued to look reproachful. Good, good times.


granny said...

Granny would have bought him the milk (-:

granny said...

...but of course, the reason his tantrums are short is because you are consistent parents who do not give in to his every whim (that's what grandparents are for).

Allan said...

It's a right of passage for all parents to go through, this wonderful child having a total meltdown in the most public of places, the grocery store. The next phase is even better, namely the "Why" phase, where no matter what you say your beloved offspring responds with "Why" ...."why"......"why"
Enjoy this "Full Catastrophe" you will miss it when it's gone

Jabbertrack said...


Though Merritt is only 10 months (almost) and doesn't yet know the art of the tantrum I already have a taste of the crying and screaming for what seems like no reason.

Fed? check
clean diaper? check
entertaining daddy? check

and yet the baby tirade continues...

though I've found that hip hop played at a decent volume seems to soothe the savage beast... or A Muppet Christmas... but I refuse to listen to "Zat you Santa Claus?" one more time

Jessi said...

Oh Dad I am touched by your nostalgia for the curious stage in your daughters' lives! I am now seriously reconsidering an reinstation of the "why" movement...just because you loved it so much. And in all my evil glory, I plan to teach it to Max as well. -cue evil laughter on my part and stroking of some exotic animal that I need to project my terrible image-

Chelsa said...

I suggest a bush baby.