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They say it gets easier, having a child that is. Babies are hard work, keeping you up at night, spitting up food, soiling nappy after nappy - in fact testing your every resource 24-7. Some of you may still be going through that baby stage right now and are waiting for the easier part to start. Well let me just burst your bubble right now. It only gets harder. Much much harder. The cute little babbling sweetheart who's smile wins you over every time, will become a little terror pressing every button you own just to get a reaction. I have days when I find myself shouting right back at my child as she screams for something I won't give her, and I start to wonder who the toddler in fact is! But try reasoning with a two year old. It just doesn't happen. As they start to learn language and get past the prerequesit 'Mommy' and 'Daddy', they will quickly learn the power of 'NO!', 'mine!' and Megan's favourite: 'more!'... now followed by the ever more difficult to resist... 'please?'. When you have played horsey for the umpteenth time in an hour and vowed 'just one more time' over and over, that little magic gets me right here - particularly when she says it without prompting. But of course she knows this, and the power that 'please' has over Mommy brings all sorts of excitement her way!
And just wait until they throw a tantrum in public. My first one happened in my local Woolies food market. I only needed one or two items so I (stupidly) let Megan run around rather than put her in the trolley (mistake number one). And well I only really needed bread and an onion so I didn't need a basket either (mistake number two). So I walked around the store to get to the bread, and of course realised I also need that, oh and one of those, and a couple of these... and before I knew it I had my purse under my arm, one hand trying to keep Megan in a vaguely straight direction, and the other arm laden with groceries. But we were nearly at the till, so I needn't bother grabbing a basket... (can I get any deeper?). Now this particular food mart has a coffee shop just beyond the queue to the tills, divided from the queue by a silver rail, just the right height for a toddler to slip under. So picture it... me, in the queue, one arm laden, the other trying to keep hold of a little hand that just won't cooperate, trying to stretch my arm longer and longer as she gets further under the railing heading for the coffee shop. And of course the more I say no the more she resists, until, the inevitable happens. My very strong sturdy little girl turns into a pile of jelly and just collapses on the floor, completely loose-limbed, and as soon as I let go to try get a better grip to pull her up, she suddenly regains coordination and races off. Round one to Megan. By now the queue is substantially longer behind me, and I look around, unsure. Of course everyone sort of looks on, no offers to help, nothing. So I put my little pile of groceries on the floor, tell the people in the queue to just keep going, and climb under the railing to go rescue my little runaway, who I hike under my arm, legs flailing everywhere and screaming reaching fever pitch, before nonchalantly bending down to retrieve my groceries, and somehow manoevre all of the above to the till, intact. And Mommy takes the gold!
Those of you who have been through a public tantrum will have experienced one of three reactions from those around you. One - complete indifference. These people have far more important things to think about than what someone's badly behaved kid is doing - 'now THAT'S why I don't want kids'. Two - outrage. 'Can't you handle your own children? That kid needs a firm smack'. And three - sympathy. 'Be strong, we've all been there! I can remember when mine was that age!' A friend of mine's toddler had a tantrum in the middle of a large shopping car park. Now this little boy is very strong and quite big for his age, and my friend has a bad back. And she knew from experience that nothing was going to sort him out in a hurry and there was no getting him in the carchair in his current state. So she did what we all know to do - put him on the tarmac and ignore him. Some people walked passed trying to pretend it wasn't happening, but surrepticiously glancing back every now and then. Others stopped to offer sympathy. Then there were the worst. The ones who stopped to ask if he was okay - was he having a fit or something? Shouldn't you pick him up? Ag shame man, poor thing - directed at the misbehaving child and not the at-the-end-of-her-tether mom!
But we know that we wouldn't trade them in for the world! Setting boundaries and considerate discipline will only make for stronger, more secure children - and hey even us mommies make mistakes. I think we just need to keep a sense of humour, look all those opinionates in the eye and say: "Listen, you take her home for the day, bring her back, then tell me about discipline!" And you only need to spend an evening at the Spur to be reminded that that there is always someone else out there with a naughtier child than yours!
© Sally Hetherington .
