Tantrums: The story of how I got Madeleine's face to turn as red as a ginger who forgot to wear sunscreen

Madeleine has a severe sweet tooth. She lives, breathes, and dreams cookies. Literally. She talks about them in her sleep.

Weeeeeell, last night she had not eaten her dinner so when she came up to me with that FACE and said, "Mommy... cookie please?" I said no. And that just pissed her off.

She started crying. Sobbing. Begging. Pleading. "COOKIE PLEASE!!!!"

And my answer was still no. Until I got "clever".

"Madeleine," I said naively, "you may have a cookie when you eat your string cheese."

There could be nothing wrong with this idea. String cheese is healthy AND she loves it AND when she does I can give her a cookie AND she will love me again. GREAT PLAN!

Madeleine is pleased too. She goes running off to the kitchen so fast that she trips, falls, and slides into the fridge. But she is well on her way to a cookie so nothing well get her down. She pops up with gusto and squeals, "OH GOSH MOM CHEESE!!!!"

I give her the string cheese. She says, "Thank you", trots to the trash, throws it in, and says, "All done mom! Cookie please?"

Tricksy little hobbit!!!! I say no and then it's all exorcist up in this joint. Heads are spinning, screaming, snot running down her nose, and her face looks like we had painted it to match her Elmo costume.

So naturally I ignored it. I nursed the baby and waited. Soon enough she comes up to me, stretches out across my legs, and sniffles on my lap for a bit.

Then she hops up, goes and gets the baby Tylenol, and comes back. "Mommy... drugs please?"

And before the cycle could begin again I scooped her up and carried her to her crib. Without any cookies. She definitely slept about twelve hours. Apparently shape shifting from precious toddler into full out cookie monster takes a lot out of a girl.

But don't worry. She didn't forget about her cookie. In fact, the first words out of her mouth when she woke up this morning were, "Mom.... cookie please?"