Sad Face

The time out chair.

Ah, the salty taste of tears. The seasoning of life.

Violet's tears come in many forms. There are the useful tears, like when she panicked after I pulled the front door shut so I could gently but firmly decline the offer of a traveling saleswoman. "Wow, she's really freaking out," the woman remarked, watching Violet spaz through cut-glass windows that flank the door. She left quickly. And Violet was rewarded handsomely for her performance.

There are the tears designed to elicit sympathy and potentially a snack. "I hurt my (insert body part here)!" she'll wail, producing two fat, glistening tears that shine tremulously on those perfectly chubby cheeks. Generally the all-powerful kiss from mommy or daddy, and possibly her boo-boo buddy ice pack are enough to send her merrily on her way before the tears manage to track too far down her face.

"I need the dat!" (dat = cat)

There are the angry tears, the ones that appear when Violet ends up in time out for some unwise choice (hitting mommy, refusing to listen, etc). These waterworks are generally combined with a sorrowful wail of "I'm ready!" with arms outstretched. We have to set the timer now to make sure she stays put for the appropriate amount of time or that face will melt my resolve.

It's amazing to me how quickly Violet can go from one emotion to the next. In one day, nay an hour, she can swing from the highest, giggliest high to the depths of despair and back again. It must be exhausting to be a toddler, wearing your raw emotions on the surface like that. But oh, when she's happy, there's nothing better in the world!