Then I took Ian out with me to go shopping. We made a trip to the chiropractor and then headed to the Dollar Tree. We were going so that Ian could pick out a small gift for everyone all by himself. It ended with $25 worth of junk...but the cuteness was worth it.
Anyway, Ian has been going through a difficult stage lately. Call it the terrible two's. Most days I do a pretty good job of shrugging my shoulders and letting his outrageous little fits. Sometimes I feel like I'm just trying to make it through the day so that I can get a little break. But most of the time, I'm just happy. But we have our moments.
Back to today; We had just finished our shopping and everything was getting a bit hectic. I had brought Vanessa-Kate in the moby wrap since they have super small carts. Half way through the store she got hungry and I had to take her out to nurse her. So when we went through the checkout line I had already unwrapped the moby and was carrying her in my arms. Ian was standing just on the other side of the cash register by the gum ball machine asking for "a money" to get a gum ball.
I told Ian I didn't have any money. Meanwhile the cashier gave me crap about paying with a Mastercard (even though they accept them) like it was some sort of inconvenience on her personal time. ::Shrugs:: I gathered all of the bags in the cart and went for the door.
And that's when the meltdown of 2011 happened.
My son started to SCREAM and throw himself down on the ground. Now I have a baby in one arm, a large diaper bag over the other arm, a very strong 2 year old laying on the ground screaming, and a cart full of bags and my purse. All the while, everyone in the store is staring at me like I have two f'ing heads. One lady gave me the meanest look. She acted like I had thrown him on the floor or something. You all may remember me posting about how I try to be supportive when I see mother's in the store going through situations like this. I try my best to give an understanding smile, a nod...something. I'll hold the door, carry a bag, anything to help...because I've been there. A screaming child doesn't mean a bad kid or a bad parent; it just means a bad day most of the time.
But no one in the store moved a muscle...except the ones they used to make their disapproving frowns. So I try to pick him up, and he throws himself harder on the floor. I then use the shopping cart to push open the door (since no one can be bothered to open it, even though several people are standing next to it) and start to drag my son out of the store, hoping and praying that he will decide to stand and walk.
We reach the edge of the sidewalk. I plead with him to stand. He refuses. My cart goes over the edge and is now making it's way across the busy parking lot. Greeaatt. So, I bend down to pick him up. He's now flailing his arms in legs and hanging out of my right arm. Vanessa-Kate is slowly slipping lower and lower down in my left arm. Her face is bunched up because she's slouched so low. I look down at her and feel so badly that I want to cry. But in order to scoot her up I would have to drop Ian in the middle of the road. So a trudge on.
We reach the middle of the road. I hear a crashing sound on the pavement. Shit. My phone. It now lays on the pavement in 3 pieces. There are now two cars, one coming from each direction, waiting for me to cross the street. I put Ian down, asking him to stand. As I bend over to pick up the pieces he throws himself on the pavement. I can't pick him up at this point without dropping the baby. I'm royally screwed. I, again, pull him screaming about gum balls for the next 10 feet.
I reach the grass median area where my shopping cart has stopped. I am parked 3 spaces away. I leave it there. I put a teary-eyed, broken hearted Vanessa-Kate into her car seat. I fight with it to get him into his. I start the car since it's only 25 degrees. I got back for the cart, load it all in the back, shut the doors and just let him cry for a minute while I stand outside in the cold. I didn't know what else to do. I just stood there, feeling the cold air go in and out of my lungs...doing anything I could just to try to find a bit of sanity.
After a few short minutes I get back into the car. Ian isn't screaming, but is now fussing about wanting his boots on. I assume he took them off when he was throwing a fit. Whatever. I've cracked. I turn on Christmas music loudly and sing "pennies from heaven" over his tantrum. And you know what, I felt a little better.
My point is, we all have these days. This has been my worst in a while. My head is pounding, and I just want to go to bed. Part of me would like a very strong drink. But, sitting here right now I can tell you that it's all worth it. It really and truly is. But...I can't wait to get through this tantrum stage. Most of the time he is an awesome kid...but goodness he has a temper. Parenting is not and exact science. We all are just hoping that we're doing the right thing. Did I ever think that I would literally have no choice but to drag my child through a parking lot? No. Hell no. Did I do it today? Hell yes. *sigh* Here's hoping to doing the best we all can.