The Rage

Bubba's been sick. I think we know this. Fever for 6 days, runny nose, etc. He also always ends up getting diarhea when he gets a virus. Everytime. Ugh. This time, he also got a double ear infection. The fever lasted the requesite "one more day" advised by the doctor, so we put him on antibiotics. Ugh. The fever abruptly went away the day after the antibiotics started. He got a rash almost as soon as the fever went away. And then the rage started.

Violent, crazed outbursts would follow simple instructions such as, "Let's go sit on the potty." or "Come read a book with me." It was scary and weird. I had never heard Bubba scream like that until this weekend. He would lash out and try to hit people or things. He would throw himself around. It was like he was possessed. At one point, I started googling things like, "fever, rash, rage toddler" to see if those symptoms were indicative of an illness. I got on emedicine and webmd to see what I could do about this.

My friend who was visiting from out of town made the comment that Bubba might have the "rage virus" from the (zombie) movie 28 Days Later. And really...it kind of fit. He has the rage virus. My poor baby is turning into a modern day zombie. We'd better not let any of his bodily fluids get on us, or we'll be doomed to raging around, too.

I was shocked. Bubba has always been such a sweet boy. I know he has a little more of a mind of his own than #1 did, but he's never really been of the tantrum sort. I never knew. It's got to be hard, though. Scooter really only had me to deal with. As long as I was somewhat consistent in my behavior, she knew what to expect. There was no two parent dynamic - if I do this to mom vs dad, what will happen, etc. Who is actually the boss here, anyway? Dad? Mom? Bubba?

That said, I remember distinctly at least 2 ocassions where she and I had tantrums (mostly her). And, of course, both were in stores. The problem there is that I was a single mom - there was nobody to cart the kid out to the car while the other parent finished the errand. In my case, we carted ourselves to a secluded area of the store, waited it out, and then continued on our way. So at least Bubba's weekend-long tantrum was, for the most part, confined to the privacy of our own home. In looking at Scooter today and the helpful, kind, intelligent girl that she is, I do need to remember that she, too, was once a two year old and had trouble dealing with the stresses of a two year old's life. Sometimes, I don't WANT to wear that shirt. How can I express that, other than a huge freakout? It's the only way, sometimes. This will pass.