The worst feeling in the world is completely loosing control, knowing you have lost control, and not being able to stop it. Sometimes Often I find myself, at the end of the day, having no patience or energy to respond to my daughters break downs in any other way than being equally as childish and unhelpful as she is.

The worst feeling in the world.

Now before I go on, I just want to say that J is lovely. She is strong-willed and high-spirited (all nice ways of saying a handful) but she can be so thoughtful and just and defends the weak and stands up for the frail and melts icicles with her smile. J, at her core is a lovely little girl with really big emotions that on occasion get out of hand. Also, since taking her tonsils out she has become much more mild-mannered which leads me to believe her tonsils were evil. But now and then we get a visit from the anti J.

Now, I am the adult, I am the one who is supposed to be calming her down when this does occur. But when she cries for the 5th time in a row for no valid reason (well, probably a valid reason for a 4-year-old not so much for me) all I can seem to do is be just as unreasonable.

I am supposed to talk her off the proverbial ledge, not jump off it and pull her with me. I just can’t do it sometimes. I sit there being a complete idiot with her and having all the stuff I have read go through my mind like that strip at the bottom of the news channels that are showing scenes of war and carnage. Stuff like “go down to her level and speak to her calmly” and “Just hold her really tight till she calms down” or “calmly show her you know what is upsetting her so she knows that you understand”.

I remember when J was not 3 yet, and for some reason she had a before bed meltdown while I was reading them a story. So I decided that I was going to completely ignore her no matter what she does and get through the stupid story for once without interruptions because it was unfair to S. J, after realising what was going on, started chucking shoes at me… SHOES!

The first 3 whizzed passed my head but when the fourth made contact with my shoulder I had to put the damn book down again and freak out with J. Meaning S didn’t get to hear the rest of the story and rolled over and slept. (Silver lining: He can sleep through anything)

Now tell me, in that situation, what am I expected to do? The kids share a room… So I can’t just put her in her room and ignore her. It’s late, she was not yet 3 and S had school in the morning and I couldn’t risk a stand-off because J will inevitably win.

Yes, we are a long way from the 45 min tantrums she used to have daily a few years ago when we were in the UK. The people in the apartments in front of us would come to their windows and try to see where the racket is from. I am surprised they did not call the police on us. But we are still in the meltdown phases when you can see she completely looses control. The trick is, I think, to talk her down before the meltdown starts.

Inevitably though, we end up with J on my lap, hugging each other saying stuff like “I don’t like being mad at you” and “lets not do this again” and “You’re the best mama/daughter in the world”. This might just be us and how we get along… although I can’t imagine her on my lap when she’s 16… you never know.