I am recovering from a 6.5 or 7 tantrum on the tantrum Richter scale (I reserve the right to change magnitude after experiencing more tantrums in the future). What a dramatic way for my firstborn to turn 29 months old today.

A seven-minute walk from the playground ended up taking us approximately 45 minutes (door to swing). Don’t know what set him off. He has been battling a pesky, persistent cough for about a week now but something else set him off on a whole ‘nutha level.

Some guesses:
He was annoyed that I didn’t bring his scooter while the other kids scootered ’round and ’round? (He started scootering on an imaginary scooter). He saw me adoringly place Ellis back into the stroller first? He heard me cooing at Ellis as Ellis faces me in the stroller? He asked for milk and alls I had was diluted juices (apple and orange)? He is two years old?

As we left the playground, Micah demanded to be carried. I explained to him that I could not carry him on the street while strolling his brother. “We can hold hands, Micah. But Mommy cannot carry you up. Too heavy for Mommy, ok? Mommy hold you at home, okay!?” This made him throw himself on the ground and scream, “Mommy! Carry up, carry up. I’m baby. Carry up, carry up.” This broke my heart because Micah never exhibited any jealousy when we first brought Ellis home from the hospital but lately, he’s been saying, “Mommy, put baby down. I’m baby. Carry up. Hold me.”

I crouched down and held him in a big soothing bearhug to let him know that I hear how upset he is. But holding was not sufficient. He wanted to be carried all the way home while I strolled the double stroller!

I tried to keep him in the stroller but he was thrusting around so much that I let him loose. I was not strong enough to force him back down, which is what his daddy always advises. He bucked so much that his snack tray fell off and onlookers watched me pick up all the dried strawberries, dried bananas, and animal crackers from off the ground.

“Micah, do you want to live here on the sidewalk of Queens Blvd.? You have a home. You don’t live on the streets. I see our home from here (pointing). Let’s walk like good boy and Mommy will give you big hug and read you stories when we get home.” Made him more pissed.

While he cried and carried on on the sidewalk, an obese lady walked by with her brown poodle. She saw me struggling with Micah and she just shook her head at us, laughing derisively! I wanted to pause from our scene to tell her to go suck a bag of…(it wasn’t an empathetic laugh. It was a ridiculing, “I hate f*cking bratty little kids” laugh.) Few other passersby walked by and were much kinder, one saying that he’s a grandpa of three, and that they can get like this at this age. I told them about the lady who laughed at us.

Man of the hour: li’l bro EZ who waited patiently ON THE STREET FOR nearly 40 MINUTES, in the chilly shade, while his big bro was working it out. Shout out to neighbor doing laundry in the basement who ESCORTED us to the elevator as I had to carry hysterical Micah after all while she strolled Ellis. If I didn’t carry him, he would walk right under my feet so that I couldn’t even walk without tripping over his body.

Man of the Hour, waiting patiently (pictured here before tantrum erupted)

Micah understands everything these days so when he heard neighbor lady say, “Wow, your little sister is so good and quiet. She’s waiting patiently,” (about Ellis), he started crying more.

At one point, I tried to carry him under my armpit, like a huge clutch but he got even more upset by that. I reasoned with him that I can hold him to his heart’s content once we got home. That didn’t work.

More aftershocks at home when I tried to put him down for a nap. He actually said, “Mommy, go! Go away,” (which is not uncommon for him to tell both Mommy and Daddy when he poops or wants to play alone with baby) but for the FIRST TIME EVER he also said, “Go work in office!” Excuse me, little boy? I’ll have you know I always update my resume after one of your big tantrums anyhow but you told me to do what now? Like you aren’t the same boy who hadn’t been able to separate from mommy or daddy in Sunday school until two weeks ago?

TGIThursday at the very least. Two Trader Joe’s tamales later, I am still wondering what made him get THIS upset. Maybe I’m still new to the Terrible Two’s club, but this was a doozy. Gotta go now. A resume don’t update itself you know.