The Growth of a Tantrum

She wakes and she stumbles, rubbing her eyes
Looking for mama - but to her surprise
I'm not where I ought to be.
Maybe I moved.
Maybe I've gone for good, left her unloved!
Maybe I've walked away, maybe I've died -
Maybe I'd come if she cried - cried - cried - CRIED!

So she cried, and I came, and I held her to me
And she howled her betrayal and stood on my knee
And she thrashed with her fists and she kicked with her toes
And at some point her skull came in touch with my nose
As her face turned more purple and my bruises showed through
And she arched until there was nothing I could do.

I put her down gently. I laid her right back
On a quilt on the carpet, so she could have her attack
In safety and comfort. Well, safety will do.
I waited until her frustration was through
And she turned to despair.

Oh, the howling despair!

Her tears ran right down from her eyes to her hair,
And onto the carpet, and into her ears,
And I held her again, and I kissed up her tears.

I sang her a song. I clapped her a game.
I sang her a song which repeated her name.
I played with her tummy, and tickled her toes,
And at last I could hear, from her red, running nose,
A forgiving sniff, and I saw a small smile
And I knew that we were, for the next little while,
OK friends. Good companions. Reasonably happy.
So then I spoiled everything.

I changed her nappy.