By Kimberly Zapata
It is strange how silent and still my house becomes at nap time. The blinds are closed, the lights are low, and the only sounds I hear are the purring of my air conditioner, the buzzing of my fridge, and a quiet — yet consistent — drip, drip, drip.
(Damn. Maybe one day we’ll fix our kitchen sink.)
But don’t let the stillness fool you: Less than an hour ago, my house was in chaos. Less than 30 minutes ago, toys covered every surface, and tears soaked our living room carpet. Because 15 minutes ago, my daughter had a meltdown. Six-hundred seconds ago, my daughter had the “tantrum to end all tantrums.”
Why? Because I said the one word she cannot stand; the one word she hates the most. I said no.
I don’t recall what I said no to exactly, I just know the very sound of that word triggered anger and rage; and before long she was face down on the floor screaming.
Before long, she was kicking, flailing, and crying.
And while I wanted to join her…
If you liked this post, you may also like: