It all starts in the mall bathroom (at least this time it does)
I pick you up before I dry my hands
You need to wash your hands
You shriek
My wet hands wet your shirt
You hate getting your shirt wet
Our stroller blocks people trying to get into the bathroom stalls
I focus on you
You scream and scream and scream
I decide it’s time to go home
“We’re going home.”
You remind me that I’d promised you a train ride
I feel like we’re going on a “mommy and me” train wreck
I shake my head. No, I tell you.
You scream and scream and scream
I turn and walk away. I walk and walk and walk
I keep my head up and my eyes on you
You stomp behind me
I tell myself to keep cool
“Do not yell. Do not yell.” I repeat this over and over in my head.
You grab at my dress and pull hard. You step in front of the stroller and holler “NO!”
I walk and walk and walk
I refuse to let myself be a three year old.
You need me to be the mom. You need me to help you calm down.
I walk. You scream. People stare. I pay them no mind. I walk. You scream.
What feels like hours later, we find our car.
You refuse to get into the car. I load up our stroller and put your brother in his carseat.
You refuse to get into your carseat.
You jump into the passenger seat
You scream. I look at you. I make eye contact.
I open my arms and pull you onto my lap.
You curl up into a ball and just sob.
I rub your head and brush your hair off your face.
I kiss you.
I love you so much. I don’t want you to know how hard this is for me, sometimes.
I want you to be able to show your emotions
and I want you to be able to trust that mommy and daddy are safe places.
I need to be mindful that yes, yes, you are growing up, yes, yes, you are smart and loving and emotional, and yes, yes, yes, you need your mommy and your mommy most definitely needs you.
And we made it through another day.
{ 8 comments }
Oh, this brings back the memories…. I remember being 38 prego with #2 and having to carry #1 over my shoulder kicking and screaming because she refused to leave the science museum. We all survived – that was 6 years ago. Now they are old enough to understand bribes and threats – haha.
so amazingly sweet.
reading your posting warms my heart and makes me want to snuggle with my precious daughter who is already cozy in bed tonight. I absolutely love that your daughter curled up in your lap and sobbed when you connected with her. It reminds me that the littles are looking to us for love, support and guideance even when acting out!
Being a Mama is tough sometimes!!
Jody
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hahaha, am i allowed to laugh (in empathy) more because I’ve been there SO many times lately – our meltdowns don’t start in bathrooms, they start with a much bigger audience – like while I’m coaching her running group last week – while i’m trying to juggle her, her brother (making sure they’re both safe) & engage another 10-14 kids (thankfully there were other coaches, but that week, I was the ‘voice’ of the coaching group); it happens at the pool, where no one else is stopping their kids from running across the baby pool, but I’ve already shared our rule against that (b/c no one has a good night that ends in the ER & her little brother is half the age of the other kids & both of them are clumsy when tireed); it happens anywhere for us & somehow I’m the only one with kids running in 3 directions, I have the only kid who needs to stand during a kids (outdoor) performance where the woman behind me has already shunned me for being too tall in front of her kids. I’m right there with you! Did you notice I had both kids in the cart @ target? we alternate who goes up top & who goes down below – that causes his meltdowns, not hers. Oh & the only reason I laughed at the beginning of this response is b/c they’re both in their rooms (not yet asleep, but I’m so close to being off duty I think it was my sigh of relief for the night – tomorrow starts so soon!)
That was powerful! I felt my blood pressure rising as I read your poem/anecdote. But the ending was worth it :)!
I am going to admit that I am a yeller. And I don’t like that about myself. I descend to behaving like a 3-year-old, and it’s not good. Maybe I need to just stop, too. But can I? I think I probably really can. I just have to want the peace more than I want to yell.
I don’t know why, but this story reminds me of a story a woman told me about her children once. They could argue, she would tell them, but they had to do it in British accents (they were American.) Somehow, the silliness of the affected accents defused the argument. :) I think you handled your daughter’s outburst with grace and dignity. And, I happen to think it is alright if she sees you fail at controlling your “yelling voice” sometimes. Then she realizes that you have a similar temperament, but are able to control it … most of the time. This will allow her to follow your example, but not be too hard on herself if she doesn’t always succeed. Job well done, Jessica. I think you rock. :)
Thank you Laura. I have to say that I did pat myself on the back for yesterday. It was actually someone I barely know, who I happened to confide in about the “yelling” situation with my daughter, who advised that I completely stop yelling . . . as a mom of 4 she told me, “She will observe you and do as you do.” Even though I refrain from yelling most of the time, I do have bad moments where I fail to be that perfect mom I want to be and I end up yelling. Add to this that one of my daughter’s playmates is a big yeller and well, I have observed my daughter’s transformation into being a yeller. So now I’m trying to find a gentle and peaceful way to show her that we don’t have to yell to be effective at getting our message across to each other.
We’ll see how this works out . . .
Very sweet and very appropriate for the thoughts that you dealt with. I salute you for your amazing “Mama Zen”!!