Devil Child

Last night Griffin had his first extremely major meltdown.  I've read and heard disasterous stories about toddler tantrums, and always throught they were slightly exaggerated, but holy s@(#, they were spot on.  At 7pm, it began. Griffin irrationally threw himself around hysterically screaming, melting, wiggling around like a fish out of water.  There was no talking him off the ledge. Nothing helped.  I didn't know whether to be angry, cry, or just laugh at the situation.  I offered to cuddle, hold him, I gave him his paci, gave him Cubbie, asked if he wanted to help me put in the bath toys as a distraction, or get in the bath (which was already filled). "NO!" he'd scream.  I just sat there helplessly watching him freak out.  It was as if he was completely possessed by the devil.  I struggled to change him into his pajamas, and it took all my strength to get a diaper back on him, as he pushed me aways, arched his back, flopped around, kicked, squirmed, and screamed like a crazy person.  Talk about stressful and a crappy way to end a day.  It was unbelievable to witness, like where did my cuddly funny boy go?  After forty greuling minutes, Griff finally surrendered to fatigue; he looked as if he'd been through an emotional war and got his ass kicked.  He was still sad, but agreed to read some books.  With a little red face, and puffy eyes, he sat exahusted on my lap and rested his head on me with Cubbie as his pillow.  What a freaking nightmare.