Trumper/Temper Tantrums

When I was a toddler, I threw temper tantrums.  I do NOT remember this.  I have a few memories from very early years, but I have probably…and gratefully…suppressed this one.  So, what I know is hearsay from my Mother….I strongly suspect she was truthful!

My Dad was fighting in France in WWII when I was born, and we didn’t meet each other until I was seven months old.  At the end of the war, men had a period of adjustment trying to find jobs and reestablish themselves.  Consequently, we lived with my maternal grandparents for a time, as did all three of my mother’s brothers who were also returning from military service.  Picture this:  one cute, sassy, curly headed toddler girl living with five men….a grandfather, a father and three doting uncles.  I was spoiled rotten.  The uncle who was attending law school told me that when my mother scolded me, I should tell her that I was “standing on my constitutional rights.”  I did learn to say that.  Poor Mom!

I was quite insistent on getting my way, and when I did not, a tantrum ensued.  These were not little crying jags.  I actually laid down on the floor, kicked and screamed and eventually worked myself into such a frenzy that I vomited.  I was even known to do this in public. 

My mother frequented a bakery where the owner thought I was such a cute little girl that she always gave me a cookie with a cherry on top.  I called this a “charry.”  One day, we went into a different bakery.  That proprietor thought I was cute and gave me a cookie, but…..horrors!...it did NOT have a “charry” on it.  I threw myself on the floor of the bakery and pitched a royal fit.  My Mother was mortified as she scooped me up and carried me out kicking and screaming.

After months of dealing with this behavior, my Mother decided on drastic action.  The next time I began to have a tantrum, she put me in my room alone.  She told me that I could scream and kick and make myself throw up or whatever else I wanted to do, but that I could not leave the room until I was done and ready to behave.  She closed the door and stood outside listening.  It was dreadful, but eventually I came out.  I was an absolute mess, but I was calm.  I NEVER threw another tantrum.  I realized that my days of getting attention in that way were over.

Every teacher and many parents have encountered a child who is so anxious for attention that even negative attention is welcomed.

Now here is what I propose.  We all ignore Trump!  The left stops hollering and whining about him.  The media stops reporting on all his bizarre behavior.  The right isolates him.  We put him in his room and shut the door figuratively speaking.  He is a toddler throwing tantrums for attention.  We should have expected this from someone who reveled in reality television, and who isn’t just rich, but ostentatiously rich.

Sadly, I know this isn’t going to happen.  The “left” hates him so much that they don’t have the self-control to stop picking at every little thing he does.  The media relies on controversy to sell themselves. The more bizarre his behavior, the better for them.  The “right” thinks they need him.  They embrace him knowing he may just “puke” on them.

But…when a toddler throws a tantrum, the best remedy is to ignore him…or her.