I'LL BE THE FIRST TO ADMIT that up until I became a mom, I've judged every single mother with a screaming child in a public place. I'd mumble to myself, "Lady, you'd better get control of that kid or I'll do it for ya." Or the fateful, "When I have kids.... they'll never act like that!"
Well, my sincerest apologies ladies. I've now joined the humiliated mom club of an out of control two year old. Call me crazy, but Karma is a bitty. Just two day's prior to the incident a dear friend called and asked to borrow some parenting books. I stood on my soap box and declared that so far I'd been able to avoid any major tantrums with Buca and that the key is to preventing them. Well, I should have found a piece of wood and knocked on it because less than 48 hours later, my soap box came back to kick my in the teeth. So here goes the story of the world's worst tantrum:
A SWELTERING HOT summer day at the down town SLC Farmer's Market, a 75 lb dog, a cranky 2 year old, a stressed out and overwhelmed mother, and.... a birth mother. (whom shall be referred to as Ms X) We've been walking around with Buca in the stroller for over an hour and the poor girl had seen nothing but people's legs as they walked by. I was hot, Buca was hot and my arms felt like falling off from trying to keep Kashi from saying hello to every person in sight. About 3/4 the way through the market Buca spotted the swings. I decided to give her a little freedom to run around on the playground and swing for a few minutes while we rested in the shade of a fat old tree. All was well until I glanced at my watch and realized we were out of time if I wanted to make it home for my 12:45 walking appointment. I gave Buca the 1 minute warning on the swing and without thinking it through, I swiped her off the swing and said, "It's time to go to the car."
WELL, THE BROWN PILE OF DOG REMNANTS hit the fan if there ever was one! And immediate reaction from Buca included, but was not limited to: kicking, screaming, back arching, hissing, growling, hitting, shouting "nooooo noooo" over and over like the devil child, and thrashing about. My first instinct in a situation like this was to strap her in the stiller for a time out, with the explanation of "You may not act this way. When you're ready to be kind and soft you may get out." It was pointless though, my lecture couldn't be heard over her screams. It took multiple attempts at securing her in her stroller. Eventually the use of my knee and forearm were somewhat productive after beads of sweat dripped off my face. The wrestling match though had just begun.
NOW, SOMETHING TO REALIZE, had I been alone... without the onlooking judgement of Ms X, who mind you is thinking all the same things I always thought of mom's with screaming kids. I would have simply ignored Buca for the next 10 minutes as we exited the market and briskly walked to the car. Thus ending our morning outing and proving that poor behavior results in loss of the experience. HOWEVER, as an adoptive mother in waiting.... I've yet to grow accustom to the constant feeling of pressure from a birthmother. It feels as though my parenting skills are constantly being appraised and examined under a microscope. And worst of all, by someone who is not in the position to understand or empathize with the role of being a mother! So with Ms X evaluating my every move and the car being 10 minutes away... I felt like it was a necessity to get control over the situation. The situation being, a total meltdown mess of a child who was in no way going to calm down any time soon.
SO I TOOK HER OUT OF THE STROLLER... (big mistake!) and we walked over to a tree away from Ms X (still in view and earshot of my every move) and I tried everything in the book. Stirn, demanding, gentle, begging, bribing, pleading, more bribing, more begging.... but nothing worked. Buca was in too much of a fit to even register the words coming from my mouth, much less the offers I was spewing out. I tried everything possible to bribe her into stopping for just 5 seconds! She was physically out of my hands, writhing her body out of my grips and kicking, with a back arch so strong that I thought she was going to slip right out of my arms like a greased up watermelon.
THIRTY LOOOONG MINUTES this has been going on. I waited in the back of my mind for a police officer to approach wondering what the situation was. Certain he'd take me into question of whether or not this child belonged to me or if the ruckus was due to an attempted kidnapping or child abuse. But alas, the man of the hour showed up. And to be honest, the timing could have come 29 minutes sooner if I had control over the universal time clock! But of coarse, dad arrived from his bike ride and immediately Buca succumbed to his sweet rescuing voice. She stopped as soon as daddy rescued her from the mean old witch's arms and he rode off into the sunset looking like the hero. Meanwhile, I looked like the beastly mother who can't handle a toddler. Real freaking rad. Not.
THE WORST PART OF IT ALL. The comment Ms X made after I had already mulled over all the mistakes I had made and internally questioned my ability to be a mother. "Wow, how are you going to handle three if you can't handle one?" Dagger to my heart people. Every single insecurity as a mother had now just been validated by that comment. I've worry every day whether or not I'll be a good mother to three children. I pray every morning and night that I'll be patient and have the strength and knowledge to succeed. But no one knows until we're given the opportunity right?
SO AFTER CRYING FOR 2 HOURS afterward and releasing the pressure of feeling like I have to "perform" perfectly as a mom. I realized, adoptive mom or not... I'm a first time mom who's learning the ropes. And I'm a fast learner. So what my toddler acted like a toddler for 30 minutes of her life on Saturday, she was an absolute angel for the remaining 23.5 hrs.
THAT'S A PRETTY GOOD RATIO. So go ahead, judge me... your day will come. And I'll be the first to come up to you and say, "don't worry dear, we've all been there. At least you don't have someone determining whether or not they trust you with their child over it :)" And then I'll walk away with a smile smeared across my face.
