Major Meltdown

Yesterday, after our wholesome family outing to the circus, we got home and Ian had a MAJOR MELTDOWN.

He's really not been one for tantrums. I mean, yes, occasionally I have to drag him out of the library kicking and screaming, but for the most part he gets mad and then gets over it. Usually.

And then there are afternoons like this one:

I don't even know what set him off or when it actually began. The details are fuzzy already. But Bryan was going to run to the store to get some Superbowl Junk Food. He asked if Ian wanted to go with him. Ian wanted to go, but wanted Mommy to go to the store, not Daddy. No, Daddy was going. Did he want to go? Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No.

Bryan starts to leave...Ian begins to cry because he does want to go. He gets to the car. Now he doesn't want to go. He turns around to walk back into the house. More crying. Because he wants to go with Daddy now. I put him into the carseat. He struggles against the buckle because he DOES NOT WANT TO GO WITH DADDY! He gets out. His feet don't even touch the ground before he starts freaking out because he wants to go to the store.

Bryan and I are laughing at first...it was like watching a ping pong match. But after standing in the driveway for ten minutes it started to get old. Bryan tells him that he's changing his mind so often that smoke is going to come out of his ears. That made him stop and laugh a little bit. Finally, we got him strapped into the seat and off they went.

4 minutes later, Bryan walks in the door, carrying a hysterical Ian. He didn't want to get out of the car at the store. Yes he did. No he didn't. Yes he did. No, he didn't. So they came home. No groceries.

I sat him down at the table with me while I fed Chase. He eventually sat in my lap and calmed down, meanwhile, Bryan slipped out to go back to the store (Hello?? We still needed junk to eat!!). All of a sudden, Ian realized that Daddy had gone to the store. Without him.

Oh, the Drama.

After some general freaking out, plus a few hits and kicks, and ultrasonic screaming, I carried him upstairs, potato-sack style and left him in his room. I told him that when he had calmed down, he could come downstairs and talk to me.

I listen to him beat the door/walls/furniture(?) for a good 5 minutes, accompanied by a very loud chorus of "MA MEEEEE! MA MEEEEE!" Finally, it quieted down (probably due to exhaustion) and I opened his door.

As soon as I opened it, he came BARRELING out like a caged animal. I caught him and told him he needed to talk to me before he went downstairs. ...and then he tried to push me back! I turned his little butt around and closed him back in his room.

Repeat of prior room tantrum antics.

When it was quiet again, I opened his door. He came out and hugged me and apologized. We had a talk. He was sorry he hit and screamed and kicked and pushed and made us sad. He wanted me to carry him downstairs. I picked him up. I took two steps...he starts sniffing hard- he wants to walk. I put him down, he does the monkey-cling to me. He wants to be carried.

Somehow we make it downstairs without another episode. When we get to the kitchen, he turns to me and asks, "Mommy, is there still smoke coming out of my head?"

Everything was normal for the rest of the night.

Oh, Lord. Is this what being 3 is about?