Lily Wanted Me to Explain Ben to the Lady in the Aisle

Last Saturday I was carrying Ben out of the hardware store under one arm like a rolled-up rug, and from the back seat of the Odyssey Lily said, "You should have told that lady he's not always like that." She is eight and she meant it kindly. She had watched a woman in the furnace filter aisle look at us for about four seconds, and she had decided that her mother needed a defense lawyer.

I didn't tell the lady anything, and I don't any more. Not saying anything to her turned out to be most of what I know about this.

What I quit doing on the floor of a store

I used to talk, to Ben first in my reasonable voice, about how we were almost done and how people were trying to shop. Then I would bargain. A cookie at the register. The cart with the red steering wheel next time. Then I'd talk to the people nearby, a little sideways, with a small laugh, to let them know this was a tired boy and not a tired mother.

None of it worked. A child in the middle of a meltdown can't take in a paragraph, he hears the tone and nothing else, and every bribe tells him the floor pays. The speech to the onlookers was for me. Ben didn't need it and the stranger never asked.

Ben is two years and eleven months, with his birthday ten days off, and his words are good now, which makes it confusing. He can say "I want the truck" in a full sentence, so it's easy to expect him to say "I'm hungry and I've been told no four times today." He can't. Nemours' KidsHealth says tantrums most often start between one and three and ease as language and self-control grow. Right now his language is ahead of his control, and it is loud.

What I do now

First I stop talking. Then I get low, beside him and not over him, with a hand flat on his back if he'll let me, and if he arches away I take the hand back and stay close anyway. I stand between him and the open part of the aisle, because what I care about is whether he's going to hit his head or kick a shelf.

After that I wait. The pediatric sources I trust say ignoring is the right call when a tantrum is mostly about wanting something, and they also name the exceptions. If he's hitting or throwing or running toward the doors, I'm not ignoring anything. I pick him up, say "I won't let you hit" and move.

If he isn't coming down within a couple of minutes, or the store has gone quiet around us in that particular way, I leave the cart. I roll it to the end of the aisle, tell the first person in an apron that I'm abandoning it, and carry him out. A second trip is the whole cost.

The car is the quiet place, with the doors shut and a cup of water, and nobody there needs me to look like I'm coping.

A whine usually comes first, and I have a plan for that one in what I do the third time my kid whines about dinner. Once he's on the floor, the plan is shorter. Stay close and say little until it passes.

If a stranger does offer help, someone holding the door or asking if I need a hand with the cart, I say "Thank you, we're okay" and that is the whole conversation. Most of the time that's all they wanted to know.

Moroni 8:8

Mormon wrote to his son Moroni about a dispute over baptizing babies, and in the letter he repeats what the Lord told him.

little children are whole, for they are not capable of committing sin

Moroni 8:8

The verse is about baptism and I leave it there. I only think of it when I'm kneeling in an aisle, and what comes to mind is the first half.

Whole.

Ben on the floor is not committing an offense and neither is any other two-year-old I've watched go rigid and red in a store, however it looks from the end of the aisle.

The older two

Caleb is eleven and Lily is eight, and they're both in the aisle with me, so they get a job and not a talk. One sentence: "Walk with me, hold the door, don't apologize for him." In the car, once Ben has calmed, I tell them plainly that Ben had a feeling too big for him and we left and it's over, and that nobody has to be embarrassed about their brother on my account.

With Ben I say even less, something like "You were so mad, and now we're in the car, so here's your water," and then I let him lean on me. I don't bring the meltdown up again an hour later. He isn't in it any more, and I'd only be dragging him back.

Frequently Asked Questions

Should I ignore a toddler's tantrum in a store?

Mostly, yes, as long as he's safe and it's about wanting something. Stay close and stay quiet. If he's hitting or throwing or heading for the doors, stop that with one short sentence and move him.

Is it okay to leave a full cart?

Yes. Tell someone at the front and go. Stores have seen it before, and a second trip is cheaper than finishing the list with a screaming child.

When do tantrums stop?

There's no day. The pediatric sites I read say they ease after about age three as language and self-control catch up, but they don't vanish. Ben turns three on the thirtieth, and I'm not expecting a change that day.

What do I do about the people staring?

Nothing. You don't owe them a story, and some of them are probably remembering their own kids.

Today I'm going to find a small cup with a lid and put it in the glove box of the Odyssey, and this week I'm going to take Ben shopping right after his nap and not before dinner.

with love, Melissa