The Tantrum of the Wild

I like watching how people choose to parent their kids. Maybe it’s the babysitter in me. I don’t know, there’s just something about it that’s really intriguing to me. 

Some choose to reprimand their child’s every move, their finger pointed as straight as the nose on Pinocchio, eyes wide with aggression, naming all forms of consequence with the ultimate stare of death. 

Others simply gaze silently as they wait for their child to calm down, trying desperately to distract themselves with anything and everything in sight. I always wonder what’s going on in their heads at that moment. Are they counting? Cursing? Probably both.

But what's even more interesting to me is the way a toddler releases emotion- whether it’s anger, sadness, or joy. It reveals tiny pieces of their personality, I think. Do they scream for attention? Cry for help? Or giggle uncontrollably to the moon and back?

Sometimes I wish adults could candidly wail in church or scream at Starbucks. 

There is freedom found in expression. 

Raw expression.

The tantrum of a child, something never meant to be fully understood.
Just envied.