by Patti
Have you ever walked by a freak-out in progress? I’m
talking about those parenting moments had in parking lots or grocery store
aisles or restaurants; the ones you wish would have been had in private, or
better yet: not at all.
I have walked by many of those freak-outs (like the
lady at Target who, in total Christmas Meltdown Mode, roughly yanked her son by
the arm away from the toy aisle and, through gritted teeth, threatened to tell
Santa Claus of his awful behavior. Or, how about the lady at Jewel who had a
total exorcist moment and shoved her kid down into the grocery cart for what must
have been the billionth time while screaming “DAMN IT, STOP IT!”, while her
other kid yanked incessantly on her leg), and before I became a parent, I would shake my
head in judgment and just know without a doubt that if I was in that situation, I
would never be so.... out-of-control.
Ha. Ha. HA. HA HA HA HA HA! Life has a way of showing
us, doesn’t it, oh yes, it does.
When S was nearly 3 years old, we were in one of
those overwhelming party supply stores, the ones that have aisles and aisles
and aisles of overstimulation in the form of confetti! And balloons! And costumes!
And glitter! And fluffy sparkly things! I was trying to buy favors for S’s
upcoming birthday party, and when I say ‘trying’ I do mean trying. S was so completely
hyper-aware of every fun and sparkly and colorful thing in that store, that
what should have taken ½ hour tops was now verging on forever. Things really reached a peak when S, in frustration at
being forced to STOP TOUCHING EVERYTHING, started THROWING THINGS ACROSS THE
STORE to get me back for being so terribly un-fun. I hastily paid while my
demon continued to torpedo Fun! Party! Supplies! across the store, and when I turned
to stop her, I was pelted in the face by a plastic bag of bouncy balls.
Burning, I yanked her arm and dragged her out of the store. We got to the car,
and I grabbed her under the arms and lifted her up in the air towards the car as she kicked and
screamed. I lost it. I shook her – not in that horrible, “brain
shake”, kind of way – just in a “STOP IT I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE !” kind of
way. I was just.... SO MAD at her; she had driven me to my every edge of parental sanity. At that very moment, a man was walking by, and
shaking his head at me in disgust, said, “Some people should never be parents.”
The thing is… that man? Had NO IDEA what I had
endured all day. He didn’t know that S had been cranky and crying and whining
and defiant most of the day. He couldn’t know that she had been a monster in
the store, running around, throwing things, challenging me every step of the
way. All he knew was that I was out of control, and that my child was crying. And
he judged me.
And I used to do the same.
Now? Having walked in the shoes of a mother who
has lost control, I imagine the backstory: That poor mother, she is dealing with
3 kids and none of them are listening to her. She has been patient all day, and
now she is spent. She tries her best, she really does. She is just tired. Tomorrow
she will start fresh.
And that’s all we can do: Start fresh.
