Tantrums... need I say more?

We've entered that stage.  The one where the "wrong" food can invoke throwing it and screaming.  The one where naptime induces a crying little fit.  The one where removing the stolen phone from tiny fingers is seen as the start of World War III.

Tantrums. They have arrived.

I looked at Micaela the other day, in the middle of a semi hysterical fit, and I just quietly told her "I know, honey. I don't like it when I don't get my way either. I totally get it."

Don't get me wrong, I'm not encouraging the tantrum by any means. Those things are the bane of my existence, and we're working really hard to be consistent and firm with our parenting. I'm not saying that she was justified in throwing the tantrum.

But I get it. We sometimes do the same thing.

Things don't go my way and I get all huffy. Plans are changed and Pablo gets all grumpy. Something falls through and I throw a fit (and eat some chocolate).

I get it. And watching Micaela pitch a fit over something silly, like having the tablet taken away from her (currently her favorite, and off-limits, "toy") made me feel almost sorry for her. Not sorry enough to give her back the tablet (at least not at that same minute), mind you. But sorry that we do this to ourselves, and that she's already "grown up" enough to experience the effects of a fallen world.

See, I see myself in her. So much. My opinionated, independent little rascal. She is full of life and energy and already I can see that she's going to have all the answers. Like I think I do. And so when she throws her fits, sometimes I get this tiny glimpse of what God must think when I throw mine.

Watching me in semi-amusement. Waiting till I'm done. Reminding me that He knows best, that He loves me. Not giving me back my tablet.

I love this part of parenting. The part that helps me understand how God sees me, his daughter. The part where I watch my daughter throw an ugly fit and see a part of myself that needs to change.

She comes by it honestly, I'll give her that. Her daddy is even more of the fit-throwing type.  It is not just all momma. So we've got some growing to do, Miss Micaela and me. Learning to trust the One who cares for us. Learning that our way is not always the best way. Learning to roll with the punches.

And on an unrelated note, we may or may not be in the market for a toy tablet that closely resembles ours but does not do anything else than be there for her to push buttons and touch the screen as much as she wants... Hey, a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do. :)