February 09, 2006: Veronika is 2 1/2

My chiropractor says the "halves" are not balanced, as in, kids who are something-and-a-half are wacky. I don't know about that, but I'm not surprised she does, because she knows everything.

I just need to write this down for posterity, so my daughter can feel guilty about the amount of mental torture she put her mother (and father) through during a time when all she was supposed to be was innocent and sweet. So, Veronika is 2.5 and she is a demon in disguise. I don't know why I thought she would never have, you know, the "real" tantrums, the ones with the kicking and screaming and writhing. I was dumb. Because her OCD behavior in normal daily processes has sequenced into complete meltdowns whenever one of her demands is not met. The meltdowns consist of vile screaming, the kind that sounds more like roaring, like threats voiced in awful nerve-grating sound (she usually ends up hoarse), furthermore there is kicking and stomping of the feet and physical resistance like going limp or back bending. Those episodes can last between 30 and 60 minutes, where none of the above stops AT ALL for any reasonable amount of time (1 minute doesn't count).

Let me recount two major incidents in the last few weeks:

1. I have a chiropractor appointment at 9.30. Around 9.10 I start getting ready, trying to get Veronika to come downstairs. This is difficult, because there are SO MANY things more important than that. She lets me know by repeating in a very dragging and annoyed voice "I'm coooming, mama, I'm cooming." So when she finally does come she insists on putting the zip-on boots herself. She can't push her foot in completely so I just pull it up quickly. MISTAKE. She howls "NOOOOO, mama!!! ALLEINE (By myself!)". I actually let her remove the boot again, but I'm running out of time and as she tries to put the boot on and runs into the same problem, I do it again and finish the putting-on-the-shoes-business. The vile screaming starts. It comes from the bottom of the deepest darkness she can find. There is more and more of it, but I don't have time nor the will to let her take her boots off AGAIN and retry... so I put on her jacket - she tries to resist and screams even louder. I strap her into her carseat with force as she tries to make her body as flat as possible, so she wouldn't fit. She screams all the way to the doctor's office (10 minutes). She screams as I unbuckle her and drag her into the waiting room. She continues the screaming there. I tell her if she doesn't stop she has to go back to the car. Well, we go back to the car. She screams more. Something about the jacket, the jacket. I let it happen and she takes her jacket off and then puts it on again (trying to erase my error of not letting her put it on herself I suppose). Still she is screaming. I threaten to go in by myself and lock her in the car. I walk a few yards and wait. I come back to ask her if she is done screaming and she is not. Repeat this about 25 times. It's almost 10 a.m. when I realize I would not go to the chiropractor that day. I give her one more chance and she continues with the demonic behavior of uncontrollable screaming and writhing, yelling something about the "the red one!!! the red one!!!". I have no idea what she is talking about and neither does she because she is incapable of saying any other words. She makes receiving "the red one" a condition to going to the doctor peacefully though and so I buckle her back in, get in the car and we drive back home. She is still screaming at this point, at the exact same intensity. I go to pick up some milk in the store and leave her in the car, when I get back, nothing has changed, the screaming is unaltered. Only now she insists between fits that we HAVE to go to the doctor. Dammit child, we can't go because YOU are screaming! That one really isn't MY fault. She eventually stops screaming about 10 minutes after we arrive home (10.35 a.m.) and I manage to distract her with juice.* It's not even lunchtime and I'm completely exhausted and utterly confused about what just happened.

2. It is Sunday morning and we have about 15 minutes until we have to leave to go to mass. Veronika and I go to her room, so I can help her get dressed. She picks out a dress, we proceed with the removing of the pajamas. The pajamas are one-piece and she manages to open them up, but can't get them off her arms. I help her. MISTAKE. She insists on putting the pajamas back on. I refuse. She screams. The rest - see above. Only we are late to mass and Veronika stays in the car another 10 minutes screaming, while Lincoln waits outside. She is interrupted by the urge to go pee and afterwards forgets about screaming more. Total tantrum time: 45 minutes.

This has reached proportions where I dread leaving the house altogether. I am not letting her win, that is for sure, but the energy and hardheadedness of toddlers are unmatched and I am beginning to lose it. I wake up on many mornings dreading her whims and her lunatic episodes, I wake up dreading HER. I am aware this is not a complicated problem and I know what to do, and I do it, but the price... the price is very high. After each of these meltdowns I feel life sucked out of me, literally. In addition to that I lose the sense of time and space and up and down. I need a couple of hours to zone out and return to normal perception of reality. In short, I'm not sure anymore if it's her or me, who is c r a z y.

*Distraction is not my method usually in dealing with this. We have two naughty spots in the house (high chair and crib - because they offer confinement) and she goes there as soon as the screaming starts and I leave her there, so she lacks the necessary audience for her complaining.