The Meltdown.

Well folks we finally had it this weekend. Our first official temper tantrum. And no I am not talking of the minor kind. Those have come and gone throughout our three years of experience in the parenthood department. Rather I am talking full blown, screaming in the middle of the store while everyone around you is watching sort of one.  The kind that you look around, feeling every pair of eyes on you. Fully aware that the mother in the corner is sitting there judging your ever move. She glares at you, and the recruits her two teenagers to follow suit. Yeah, because I am pretty sure they were perfect angels growing up...

And as I sat listening to Logan scream at the top of his lungs that I was in the wrong, and he was right and that he was going to get his 700th Spiderman figurine and that was just the way it goes mommy all I could think about was my parents.

You see I remember growing up, throwing tantrums, and watching as my sister(s) throw them as well. Back then I thought-just like the rest of us-how totally unfair life was that we were not getting our way. I remember begging, and pleading for toys, and games and even that pony that I never got but always added each Christmas, hoping that beyond hope it would somehow appear. If it wasn't the holidays then we would beg and plead in the middle of the store and do our best at trying to convince my parents that we would be good as long as we got what we wanted. Sometimes it worked, but when it didn't. Well when it didnt, you best watch out. I specifically remember my little sister throwing some rather nasty ones. And when this happened, well we would be marched out of the store, the resturant until we could either calm down. My father would be the one to give us a 'little talking to' while mom would stay behind.

And growing up. I swore when my kids grew up I would handle things differently. Though how I didn't know. Maybe I was naive and thought they would never act they way we did as kids in the store. Believe me at ten things were a lot different. And as a kid, you swore what they were doing was the worst thing ever.

Yet as I stood there in the middle of the store, with Logan informing me I was wrong, and the lady across the way glaring at me. And my husband standing there asking me which movie I wanted over the other, all I could think about was. I get it. I totally get it All those years, of truly not understanding why my parents did what they did..and I finally got it.

And so I did the only thing I could think of.

I grabbed my screaming child, my husband. I abandoned the basket leaving everything right there in the middle of Target. (I am truly sorry for those that had to put it all away) I did not look back, or look at anyone really while Anderson hid Logans face and tried to unsuccessfully wipe away his tears.

As we left the store I wondered if this was how they felt. This pit in the stomach. Had I done the right thing? Caving in would have been a lot easier, and perhaps a lot less embarrassing.And for a moment I almost felt ashamed that I had let it get this out of hand. I wondered if they to questioned their own decision, if they swore they would never do such a thing in the middle of the store just as I had all those years ago. I did my best to hid the disappointment in myself, hide the tears that were bound to fall because I felt like I was the bad one in the situation.


Logan eventually calmed himself down enough that we could go to dinner-because our dinner still lay in the basket we left back at the store.-and as we sat there in the middle of the restaurant with a now happy little boy. The only signs of any meltdown was a blotchy red irritated cheek, and when a father flew out of the restaurant with a screaming kid in toe. I smiled, nodded to him in total understatement.

I had been there, we all had been there.

Welcome to the club.