I finally ordered the book and it finally arrived.
I found Raising Godly Tomatoes on the internet when Lia was 1 year old and it has shaped our lives into happy and joyous ones. I’ve talked about this before. Perhaps not proportionately to how much it shapes our lives, but I have brought it up.
I never bought the book because all of the information was on the website. But I’m a book-o-phile by nature and conditioning, and when I’m laying in bed at night going over the day, I’m not going to run to the computer and click through webpages to find the help I need. (Computer guilt, remember?) I will, however, look in a book if it’s on my nightstand.
It is Amelie who prompted this purchase, even amid stringent budgeting. If Amelie was in Mary Poppins, her song would be “I love to CRY, wah wah wah wah, long and loud and clear.” And it has been like this since she was born. Which really puzzles me, because she is so sunshiny and sweet and cuddly. Except when she’s crying.
So the book arrived today, and I set it aside, feeling too tired to think about disciplining and changes that need to be made and the energy required to do it all. The girls and I sat down for a cup of pre-bedtime herbal tea, and I went to put Amelie in her high chair and off we went again. She wanted the tea, but she did not want to get in the high chair. No matter her current feelings about her high chair, Mommy says that if she’s going to eat, she’s going to eat it in the high chair. Period.
She never did drink her tea, or get in her high chair. She did, however, cry alot.
So, as soon as I tucked them into bed (and they both stayed there and went to sleep peacefully), I got out my new copy of Raising Godly Tomatoes and put the first creases in the binding.
And, ah, light shineth forth. There WILL be an end to this incessant crying over the merest trifles! Of course, I’m going to have to read it again in the morning when my brain has some retaining powers. What relieves me the most, however, is to finally be able to diagnose the crying.
I’ve been so puzzled, almost bewildered. Is she crying because she’s frustrated? I don’t think so. Because she wants attention? No, she’s happy to cry whether someone is listening or not. The walking away method really doesn’t work on this one.
But now I know, her crying is unrestrained anger. What ever sparks it off (the high chair this evening, Mommy’s choice of water cup this afternoon, etc, etc, etc.), she just lets herself get out of control.
So, hopefully over the next few years (not to mention the next few days), I can give her some tools so that she can react to life’s troubles with self-control and patience instead of throwing herself on the floor and crying.