Oh happy day. My sweet tempered baby has learned to throw a tantrum! I'm so proud.
Ever since Mooch was born I have been shocked by how easy she was to get along with. After the whirlwind of shrieking rage that was Goober, Mooch's infancy has been a vacation. She started sleeping 5-6 hours a night at birth and by 7 or 8 weeks she was down for 12 hours, oh yes TWELVE HOURS. She nursed perfectly and had no problem with solids whatsoever. She cried, of course, but only for short periods and only when something was actually wrong and then when you fixed it, miracle of miracles, she stopped. As opposed to Goobers penchant for screaming unholy murder for hours no matter what you did. The kind label for Goobers' disposition was "Spirited" Mooch, on the other hand, could not be described as anything but "Easy" It's entirely possible that my recollection has been skewed by the fact that when Goober was small I was a mess and I should definitely have been seeking some PPD help, but I know for a fact that Goober was throwing Grade A-dive for cover tantrums before she was a year old and by 18 months she had graduated to full blown Door -slamming-fist pounding-"IIII HHAAAAAAAAAATE YOUUUU!"-hours long- marathon tantrums of the type normally reserved for puberty or demonic possession. Mooch's first tantrum attempts at 16 months have been downright cute by comparison.
There it is, the screaming that isn't actually crying, the flailing limbs, the falling to the floor...
"Wow, she's really mad isn't she?" Adam noted, actually smiling a little at the novelty of it. But then it was over, just like that, less than 2 minutes from when it began. Oh well. I'm sure she'll get better with practice.
Life is complicated.
31 minutes ago