Last week brought the Epic Easter Virus (EEV) to over half of the people I know. It didn’t matter what state you lived in – chances were you had it.
Luckily EEV took the form of a mild stomach virus, where you felt like hurling, but didn’t actually empty the contents of your stomach every time you thought of food. It struck down my husband, Bobbi, then Lil Diva.
That’s right, the adults fell victim first – not the adorable disease carriers I gave birth to.
The Tackler somehow escaped (thank god) and I continued my inexplicable immunity to anything stomach virus related (someone has be left standing to clean up the puke and go to the grocery store when the nasty viruses hit).
Knock on wood.
But EEV had an unforeseen side effect in Lil Diva. It flipped a switch, transforming her into a creature capable of sending even the most easy going and capable parent running for the nearest dark room with a lock.
The Wailing Whining Diva.
Similar to the Screaming Banshee from the Era of Teething, the Wailing Whining Diva needs little to no provocation to toss her head back, opening her mouth and voicing her discontent at near ear splitting levels.
Gone is the girl with smiles capable of melting the hearts of those who don’t like children. Gone are the happy giggles. Gone are the hilarious conversations with dolls and stuffed animals as she puts them in time out or down for a dozen consecutive naps.
The Wailing Whining Diva spouts demands, often in grunt or whine form, completely unintelligible to adult ears. Forget sentences or words. Failure to decipher and respond immediately results in increasing volume, as tears accompany the whine into more of an overly dramatic cry.
Independent mobility is eschewed for demands to be carried from point A to point B.
Altitude is of utmost importance.
If one succumbs to the classic “pick me up and hold me” gesture to silence the wails then dares sit down on the couch to rest one’s arms, the cries begin anew.
There are glimpses of the angel she once was.
Bits of moments, sometimes minutes spring from the gloom, reminding me of my old Lil Diva.*
Perhaps the most frustrating thing of all is preschool.
Because between drop-off and pick-up she returns to her delightful, charming self – the Wailing Whining Diva invisible to her adoring teachers.
For the walk to the car.
* * *
*UPDATE: No sooner did I hit post, and she freaked out about her new dress being untied, but became angrier when I tried to retie it. I brought out the camera to photograph it in case it does not survive school and she completely freaked. “You don’t take my picture right now!”