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How to Drive With a Screaming Banshee Child

As we move forward into Quinn's third year, I'm becoming aware that a 3-year-old tantrum is nothing more than a 2-year-old tantrum with more verbal abuse.

My son Quinn and I were driving home from the doctor's office. All was well. Quinn decided he was hot and wanted his window open. It was 40-something degrees outside. He was just diagnosed with an ear infection. I'm thinking "not"! A sick 3-year-old and the word "no" equal a balls-up temper tantrum. 

The tantrum's first 90 seconds happened at a red light while he tried repeatedly to Houdini himself out of his five-point car seat harness to get to the window.  During this time, my immediate reaction was to shout at him so that I could be heard over the screaming of "stupid mommy!"  Yes, of course, I was being a "stupid mommy." Quinn was out of control. Why would I think that shouting back and telling him to calm down would work?  We have been down this road before and I know that doesn't work. 

I decided to focus on the task at hand, which was to deliver my psychotic child home safely.  He was already strapped to a padded chair so his physical safety was pretty stable.   

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Most people in Atlanta can't drive well on a good day without a screaming, kicking child. I needed to excel and earn my gold star for driving. Oh, and in case anyone thought that the volume control on your car radio was simply created for spring break road trips when you're blaring Jesse's Girl or Pour Some Sugar On Me, you are wrong. I turned up the radio volume just loud enough to drown out the screaming.  I bee-bopped along to the Flashdance movie theme song What A Feeling followed up by a Pitbull song.

Quinn continued the kicking and screaming, and occasionally I would catch the phrase "stupid mommy" and turn the volume up a hint more. At the stoplights, I would turn down the music and ask in a sweet, soft voice, "Are you calm now?" A noise would erupt from the back seat like that heard out of Regan's mouth in the Exorcist movie. I turned the volume up. Some might consider this extreme parenting. Some of you might be shaking your head and thinking, "yeah, sister, been there done that." 

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Let me assure you all, this was strictly a tactic with my child's best interest at heart. My other options were a) pull the car over and cuddle my out of control child to soothe him long enough to get him back in the car seat and start the tantrum fresh over; b) drive while looking in the rearview mirror screaming back, or speaking in soothing tones to do nothing more than fail at calming him; c) give in and risk further health damage by putting his window down so he can have exactly what he wants and allowing him to know that by throwing this balls-up type fit that he can get what he wants and that mommy has no control and deserves no respect. So, I chose d) turn the radio up, drive and stay calm.

As we move forward into Quinn's third year, I'm becoming aware that a 3-year-old tantrum is nothing more than a 2-year-old tantrum with more verbal abuse.  Fabulous. Quinn did not learn "stupid mommy" from anything that I have ever said. I'll be sure to send Disney a thank you letter for introducing the word "stupid" to my kids. 

Ethan, my oldest, had tantrums, but nothing that even showed on a Richter scale like Quinn's do. 

Today, I am super thankful for those people who created the fabulously padded five-point harness car seats and the volume control for car radios. Both are absolute necessities for driving with unruly toddlers. 

Safety first! ;)

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