She is a dragon that is about to scorch her prey. Her piercing eyes line up the target, deep black smoke clouds billows out of her nostrils, and then in an instant she strikes. Razor sharp teeth, a long whip-lashing tongue, and finally a fiery explosion launches out from her mouth. Red hot flames with bright white sparks consume her victim within seconds.
It’s not only her mouth that unleashes this enormousness fury but she uses her physical strength as well. When attacking. her body grows twice it’s normal size as she rising on her hind legs and spreads her massive wings. Her skin (normally a smooth texture that is peach in the winter and cinnamon in the summer) morphs scaly and green in order to startle and scare her victim.
Her voice booms and creates an undercurrent of seismic waves that shakes the whole village. The snarling, the screaming, the shirking that ensues as she consumes her victim can be heard miles away, up on the highest mountain.
How will this dragon be defeated?
Surely a brave knight will ride gallantly through the village to the dragon’s keep, slay the dragon, and save the victim. That is how the story always ends….right?
But in truth, the victum doesn’t need saving. The victim takes the attack willingly.
But why?
If the dragon was more than thirty six inches tall the victim would strike back with her own fiery flames of fury.
If the dragon was a man, a lover, the victim would never take this type of verbal and physical abuse. The victim would leave the relationship in an instant, with no second thoughts or a glance back.
But the dragon is only thirty six inches tall.
The dragon is not a man.
The dragon is my three year old daughter and I am her mother.
I am the victim.
I am told that this is just what three year olds do. They can’t control their feelings and emotions, so they lash out and throw temper tantrums. And since I am always there, I am the one who takes the abuse.
I know she doesn’t mean it but she hurts me.
She hurts me emotionally, verbally, and sometimes physically.
I know she will, as they say, grow out of this phase. And until then I have to do my best to keep the dragon calm, to keep the dragon under control, and to help the dragon understand that this behavior is not acceptable.
But it’s hard. And it hurts. And I’m tired.
My youngest went through something similar. I learned to walk away from her tantrums so that I could disengage from her fiery emotions (and some of my own). She needed to get through it in her own way. Along the way, I was given (from some demi-dragon-god I’m sure) a phrase that I would employ after some of the strength of the tantrum was weakened by tired lungs: “How can I help you,” I would mutter. Then I would repeat this as she allowed me to be safely close to her. There was not always a response I could measure in words…but always one eventually as she realized (I think) that I was not her enemy after all.
I shed many tears over these piercing tantrums…as I had never experienced them before–even though I had been a mother for 24 years prior to her birth! I offer you my empathy and can indeed vouch for the fact that “this too shall pass.”
p.s.–the fact that her tantrums get physical is another reason for you to keep your distance, rather than to try and control what’s happening. If she comes after you, that’s a different experience altogether, and one that I would think needs some more investigation.
Hang in there sister. Once upon a time, I had a similar dragon. Head butts, writhing on the floor, throwing stuff, and the ear/brain piercing screams. Oh yes, you never forget.
But mine is 15 now, and one of the coolest people I know.
Britton is spot on: let the tantrums run their course, put yourself in a place where you can watch but won’t be within arm’s reach. She’ll learn that mommy is not her punching bag if you aren’t right there. The hardest part of these tantrums is not getting sucked in. It’s so hard!
Jenny
Raising children can be an adventure (as if you didn’t know by now). I agree to give her space. Sometimes humor helps diffuse things before they escalate to the dragon stage. Hang in there. It’s great that you are able to channel this experience into writing. Looking forward to reading more of you on The Smartly.