Public Outbursts/Private Shame

What parent hasn’t been totally humiliated by their toddler’s melt-down on an otherwise beautiful day at the park or a teen who expressed rageful belligerence at the check-out stand for no coherent reason we can understand?  

Public-melt downs…I have been there, many times. One situation I remember vividly because I can’t forget it—even after 30 years—the circumstances were too ironic. There we were, my 18-month-old and my four-year-old. Both, yes, BOTH, mind you, were screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs…and basically creating this huge fuss in the grocery store. When, who comes by me pushing her cart jauntily and letting me know she knows me. Boy, does she know me—but I don’t know her. In fact, she heard me just last evening giving a talk to parents!! That’s how she knows me. She was in the audience. (In my defense, I was not talking about what to do about behavior issues—but screen time issues.)

When she pointed her finger at me and yelled, “I know you!” I thought I had been cursed, but found the gumption to mutter something like: “We may know what do, but that doesn’t mean it will work every time, does it now?”

She turned away. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was there—her smirk as she strolled off…

Moral of the story? We parents are in this all together. We have to leave the shame behind and realize our individual amazing children are human, they will have bad days. And, their behaviors don’t define ours. Their bad day actually means they feel so safe that they can go at it full throttle, knowing they are in the hands of our unconditional love. All will be well…Eventually…And while in these moments of madness all we can do is to try to stay as calm as possible—like the books and the workshops say—Stay calm. Breathe. Be attentive to your child and hug if possible… and, of course, get the heck back in the car, on the bus, on the trail—closer to home as fast as possible.

Below is a stream of Consciousness of a Mom somewhere talking to herself and to her child while she talks to her toddler out loud in the middle of a melt-down in a grocery store. Yep. It’s autobiographical. But I bet you can relate!

“I don’t know what you are telling me. Please stop screaming…Use your words, remember?”

I hardly remember floating through grocery shopping with only a list to occupy the whole of me. No tears. No “You can’ts.” Certainly no “Don’t touch thats…” Just me and my list, unobtrusive, strolling the aisle—no one paying the slightest attention.

I liked it that way. Was that only 2.5 years ago? Seems like at least a decade. I can hardly recall that spacious alone feeling. I am never separate now. Not my Self, by my Self, never—not even when my body is far from yours…

Would I have it any other way?  Another, loud, resounding, “No.” This time from me.

On good days with you the peace of past solo outings seeps through. We play word games and you laugh with those big blue saucers of yours. You look at carrots and tell me, “Orange is a funny red.” And somehow, we both find that hilarious while I marvel at your artistry.

You amaze and frighten me, child.

“Please stop screaming. Tell Mommy what you want…Here, let me hold you close. Does that help?”

Why here? In the congested vegetable section? I have to wrap you in soothing words, hold you close, while you mimic the sounds a dying animal must make when slaughtered slowly. 

The pet food aisle was so less crowded. Request: In the future, could you please time your melt-downs when the audience is scarce or at least scattered? 

But here—carts clanking to hastily rush by so as not to circle around us. Eyes pretending not to look. But I see you watching, judging. You over there, was that an eye-roll? Are you feasting on my shame? Oh, I am sure you had perfect children, being the perfect Mother you are, and this NEVER happened to you, did it?

Who will throw the first rock, I wonder?

Where is that portal to another world, when you need it?

Someone, anyone, throw a blanket over us both…And sing us to sleep.