On a fresh, clear morning, the backyard felt peaceful, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of morning dew from the surrounding plants. The sky was a soft shade of blue, with no clouds in sight, and the birds chirped happily in the distance. Everything was calm and perfect – except for little Sara, who, at just 2 months old, was in no mood to enjoy the serenity.
Sara had just had her morning routine with her mom, which involved a good cleaning. After removing her old, soiled diaper, her mom gently wiped down her tiny body. Her soft baby fur glistened slightly in the sunlight as her mom cleaned her up. Normally, Sara loved the fresh feeling of being clean, but today something was different. She was in one of those moods—fussy, frustrated, and ready to let the world know how upset she was.
Once Sara was all cleaned up, her mom placed her on a small wooden table in the backyard. The table was in the shade of a large mango tree, giving it a perfect cool spot. Her mom had to go inside the house for a moment to gather her morning treat, a small bottle of milk that Sara usually eagerly waited for. However, being left alone, even for a few moments, was not something Sara was willing to tolerate today.
As soon as her mom stepped away, Sara’s face twisted into a frown. Her lower lip quivered, and then, without much warning, the tantrum began. A loud cry erupted from her tiny body, her small arms flailing as if to grab at something, anything, to make her frustration known. Her little legs kicked wildly on the table, causing her to shift slightly in place. She scrunched her eyes shut, her entire face scrunched up in pure displeasure.
The birds, who had been happily chirping, seemed to pause for a moment, startled by the sudden outburst. But Sara didn’t care about anything around her. All she wanted was her mom to come back right now.
The more her mom delayed, the louder Sara cried. Her tiny body shook with each sob, and her cries were filled with a mix of desperation and frustration. It wasn’t just the fact that she had to wait for her treat; it was the feeling of being left alone, even for a short while. At her age, being close to her mom was everything, and Sara wasn’t shy about expressing her discomfort when that connection was momentarily broken.
Moments passed, and still, there was no sign of her mom returning. Sara’s cries grew louder, her little hands now clenched into fists as she waved them in the air. She let out a series of high-pitched wails, her tiny chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. Her mom had never left her alone like this for long before, and in Sara’s young mind, these few moments felt like an eternity.
Her mom, meanwhile, could hear her cries from inside the house. She hurried to prepare the bottle, knowing well how impatient her little Sara could be, especially on mornings like this when she was feeling particularly moody. As much as her mom wanted to rush, she knew she had to finish preparing Sara’s treat properly. Sara, of course, had no patience for such things.
Back outside, Sara continued her tantrum, her tears now streaming down her soft cheeks. She turned her head from side to side, looking for any sign of her mom. When she saw nothing, she let out another loud wail, her small body trembling with her intense emotions. Her crying was so loud that it almost seemed to echo in the backyard.
Finally, after what felt like forever to little Sara, her mom returned, holding the bottle of milk. She rushed over to the table, her heart aching a little at the sight of her baby girl in such distress. Gently, she scooped Sara up into her arms, soothing her with soft words.
“Shhh, shhh, mommy’s here,” she whispered, holding Sara close to her chest. Almost immediately, Sara’s cries began to soften. She hiccuped a little, her tiny fingers grasping onto her mom’s shirt as if to make sure she wouldn’t leave again. Her face was still wet with tears, but the moment she was back in her mom’s arms, her world felt right again.
Her mom rocked her gently, and soon, she offered the bottle to Sara. Though still pouting slightly, Sara eagerly took the bottle and began drinking. The warmth of the milk, combined with the comfort of being in her mom’s embrace, soothed her completely.
The tantrum had passed, but it was clear to both Sara and her mom that the little girl was not in the mood to be left alone, even for a moment, on this peaceful morning.
