A Good Fit

My nephew was less than three years old when I witnessed his fit throwing, which had his mother quite concerned and frustrated with his misbehavior. I don't remember what was not going his way that day, but I do remember him sliding onto the floor and quietly lying there.

"Do you see how he throws fits when we tell him no?" his mother asked.

I thought she was joking. I looked down at the boy who silently looked up at me...and I laughed.

"That's a fit?"

Mind you, there was some non-compliance in his slouching to the floor. However, I think the act should have been labeled sulking rather than fit-throwing.

I thought of my own kids. I remember Kate throwing her body to the ground, kicking her feet, and screaming. Wait,that was just last week and she's 18.

Seriously though, at three years old Kate would howl,twist around on the floor and stiffen her arms because she did not want to put her coat on. She would cry and stiffen her entire body every time we tried to put her in a car seat. The only thing that stopped the tantrum was to tickle her ribs. She'd go limp with laughter and we'd quickly buckle her in. Once she realized she'd been restrained, the howling would start again.

Then there's my quiet daughter. She may be my most quiet child now, but that's only because she used up most of her allotted noise during the first 18 months of her life. She screamed for a solid 18 months. And this is not simply the claim of an over-tired, frustrated mom. I have witnesses. Grandma, neighbors, friends, and even the older cousin we all referred to as the World's Best Babysitter all tried and failed to calm her. For 18 months! The funny thing is, once she learned to communicate with words and signs, the tantrums stopped. I guess she just had something to say, but didn't have any other way to say it.

I remember my son, at three years old, stomping to his room and slamming the door when he wasn't getting his way. When we didn't follow, he would peek his head out and announce, "Hey, I'm crying in here!" And I would say, "Okay," and his sisters would laugh. And then he would laugh and the fit would be over with. I guess the fact that he was the fourth one helped me not worry too much about three-year-old fits. That and the fact that there wasn't any amount of crying, wailing, and body contortions that could top what I'd already seen with his sisters. Some things, I think, girls are just naturally better at. Fit throwing, at least in my house, seems to be one of them.

Come to think of it, when I look at the men and women in my own life, there does seem to be a pattern. Men seem to be natural sulkers and women seem to be natural fit throwers. I wonder if it is indeed genetic, or if it goes back to that age-old idea that men should not express emotions for fear of looking weak. Or maybe, women are just so good at it, that our men have realized not to even bother trying. So perhaps it's not necessarily sulking, so much as it is self-preservation.

So consider this--If females are naturally so much better at fit throwing, obviously it is an inborn trait, a genetic calling of sorts. So why, do we work so hard to stifle this talent when we grow up? I'm thinking of embracing my natural tantrum tendencies next time things don't go my way. But not in a foot stamping, Kate Gosselin kind of way. Instead, I think I'll go for the mature, adult fit. Think Julia Sugarbaker of Designing Women. Now, that's the way to throw a fit. It might not get me what I want, but if I could find a way to get a studio audience to applaud, I'm sure I'll feel better when it's all said and done.

She's Back...

Aren't you glad she's finally out of the spotlight? Kate Gosselin is just about the most un-newsworthy person whose face nonetheless constantly appears on every talk show and magazine cover. I am so glad that show was cancelled and we don't have to hear her screaming fits over not using coupons while she parades through her million dollar home or watch her bag on her husband for mis-using pronouns or ending a sentence with a preposition.

And just when you thought it was safe to turn on the television...

She's back! And this time, she's dancing!

There are so many things wrong with the idea of Kate Gosselin returning to prime time, I don't even know where to start.

How about I start with this--It's called "Dancing with the Stars". Since when is Kate Gosselin a star? She's not a star. She's a mom. And kind of a neurotic one at that. I mean the woman wouldn't even let her children walk barefoot on the hotel carpet for fear of germs. Remember that episode? How about the one where she stole the ice cream from her 3-year-old children on a hot day at Disneyland because she didn't want them to get sticky? Or the time she just about blew a gasket because the baby sitter had given her children gum? Documenting her freak-outs over perfectly normal childhood activity on television, does not make her a star.

I wonder what kind of drama she'll bring on herself with this show. I can't wait to see her correct her dancing partner. Because you know she will at some point. I can just imagine the post-dance interview:

Dance Partner: "I feel real badly that we didn't do better."

Kate: "It's really bad, not real badly. And if you would have done the turn and the lift the way I told you to, we would have done very well." She smiles at the camera and brushes her bangs aside. "There are some things I need. If he would just give me what I need..."

And somewhere Jon Gosselin is experiencing a nervous tic because her words aggravate his Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.

I just have to clarify that obviously I'm not completely opposed to parents exploiting their children for fame or attention. I mean, just take a look at this blog. Of course, I got my children's permission first. They were all in agreement that being blogged about was no big deal. You see, my oldest daughter is on her way to becoming a stand-up comic. They all know that nothing in their private lives will remain private if it is good for a laugh.

Besides, they all believe that our crazy life would make a more interesting reality TV show than anything Jon and Kate or the Kardashians, or even Gene Simmons can come up with. Because ours is actually real. Real people don't have Emeril coming over to make Mac-n-Cheese. No, real people's children end up catching their Easy Mac on fire in the microwave because they didn't add the water. Real people don't get all expense paid trips to Hawaii. No, real people camp in the backyard because there isn't a single weekend that doesn't have a soccer game or dance recital or church social scheduled. And because there's at least one daughter who will not pee without indoor plumbing. And real people not only let their kids eat ice cream on hot days, but let them eat melting rainbow-colored snowcones at the zoo. Then they wash the sticky hands and spray SHOUT on the stained T-shirt when they get home.

I might be stepping into the Mom Snob role, but I can't help it. I have to announce that Kate Gosselin is not a Roaring Mom. She might be a ranting mom, or even a raving mom. But she is not a Roaring Mom. Roaring Moms guide rather than control. Roaring Moms aren't perfect. And the best thing is, we know it. Kate Gosselin, on the other hand, doesn't seem to.

Still, the network must have known what they were doing when they returned Kate Gosselin to the spotlight. Those who love her will undoubtedly tune in. And those who profess to be a little sick of her, will probably tune in, too. I just can't wait to see her critiqued by the judges. I hope they are as harsh as she was to her husband. That might be a show worth watching.