Public temper-tantrum.
The first time I experienced an in-public tantrum Faith was 2 years old and I was very pregnant. Just that sentence should tell you something – it was a bad combination. A 2 year-old, Target and a very pregnant momma. I should have known better but Faith was my first baby and at the time, I still thought she hung the damn moon. So, I went to Target on the verge of nap time and paid dearly for it.
The tantrum began with shoes. What woman can’t relate to that? Faith was practically begging for this pair of cute (I.E. tacky) Minnie Mouse shoes. I couldn’t say no, so I put the box in our cart and moved along. But that wasn’t good enough. She wanted the immediate gratification of wearing the shoes. Again, what woman can’t relate? So I put them on her. At this point, it didn’t matter what I did or didn’t do. Something set her off and she was pissed. I couldn’t tell you why because she was screaming (the type of scream that makes strangers think that the child is being kidnapped or beaten), throwing her body all over the cart and pulling the bows out of her hair. Her face was beat red, she was sweating and I was sweating. People. Were. Watching. Watching in horror.
Despite being totally overwhelmed, I tried to combat the tantrum as calmly as possible. I was talking to her in a soft voice, asking her to calm down and use her ‘big girl’ words. I picked her up, thinking a nice hug might solve the world’s problems. You can guess how that went. She started kicking, flailing her arms and arching her back to the point that I almost dropped her. As I struggled to get her stiff body back into the cart, people started offering their ‘help’ and advice. Just what I needed.
Not Target, but you get the point. Doesn’t she know how dirty that floor is…
Some were sweet and offered words like ‘Oh, I’ve been there. It’ll get better’ or ‘Don’t let this get you down. It will happen again!’ Then there were others who rolled their eyes, whispered to their spouses or gave me sweet gems of advice like these… ‘Oh, that poor baby is tired. You need to get her to bed’ or my personal favorite ‘Mom, she needs some water. You should get her some water.’ WATER? She doesn’t need water. She NEEDS a straightjacket, lady. Do you have one I could borrow? If not, kindly move along.
Doesn’t it make you wonder, while you’re on the receiving end of condescending parenting advice, don’t these people remember what it was like? Are they that far removed from raising children that they actually forget? Or did they raise perfect children and this never happened to them? Or are they really, really smart, and never had kids? Because I know that moment, the tantrum and the advice, is one I will never forget.
Wonder how that first public temper tantrum ended? It ended with me leaving the cart and dragging Faith out of the store under my arm. She was kicking and screaming…just spreading the love all over Target. When I got her to the car she was a missing shoe. Not one of her new shoes, one of the shoes she came in wearing. Pretty ironic considering the tantrum started over shoes and I was now leaving with one less than when came.
I left the cart, her shoe and little of my dignity behind in Target that day. Target is full of beautiful things but it’s also full of the battered dignity of mother’s everywhere.
Mommy Diatribes
I’m 62. My sons are grown men now. At this moment I feel as though I’m in a store staring down waiting for him to pull himself together. Sometimes I feel like doing that myself. I’m laughing. Even those moments have become a happy memory! We survived!