War at Walmart

This is the blog that started this venture.  I wrote this on March 27, 2011 (a week ago).  I had huge uprising of support saying I should be an author.  Well that's a huge step from a little story about something that happened to me to writing a book (I just had a mini heart attack considering it again!)...maybe some day.  For now, blogging is a good start.  Enjoy "War at Walmart"!

Have you ever had one of those moments as a parent where you can't stand what is going on and do not know how to deal with it and you feel like everyone is looking at you and judging you?  You know, the one where you have a screaming child in the store and it takes everything you have not to wallop them upside the head.  Now take that exact moment and make that child one who cannot communicate clearly and because of this gets so frustrated that screaming, kicking, pulling hair, punching, etc ensues.  Do you think you can get through that?  Well I did!

Before I get into this let me give you another scenario.  Now you are not this child's parent, but one of the people in the store watching this go down.  Are you standing there judging the parenting?  Are you feeling sorry for the parent?  Are you wanting to help?  Or do you want to get as far away from it as possible because you can't stand the child?  Are you thinking that the parent is the worst parent in the world because they let their child get to this point?  Or maybe you are thinking that "If that were me, I'd....", what?  What would you do?  Hit the child?  Remove them from the store?  Give in to what you think it is they want? Or would it just not get to that point if it were your child?

Be honest, you all know you have made these kinds of judgments before.  I'm not saying I never have either.  But more often than not, no one is taking into consideration that maybe that child is like Tyson.  Maybe he didn't start talking until he was 2.5, and maybe he is very hard to understand because of medical issues.  Maybe the child is autistic or has downs syndrome.  Does your judgment change then?  But even if you don't know Tyson, or can't see that the child has downs syndrome, or you don't know he is autistic, do your judgments change?  Sooooo many people have complicated physical and mental illnesses that no one can see.  So before you judge ANYONE, remember that you do not know all the facts.  Then take a step back and think to yourself, if it was that way, if the child did have some other factor causing the problem, could I do it?  Could I take the judgment?  Could I control myself to not hit my child or do something else that is drastic?  You don't know, do you?  Nope, you will not know unless you are in the same shoes.  So keep that in mind next time you are in the store and hear a blood curdling scream from a wayward child.

Now on to my experience....

Tyson LOVES "da wah-mawt stoy".  Did you figure that one out?  The Walmart Store.  He loves it.  Everywhere he looks he see his friends--"Bideyman", "Bunge-Bob", "Doy-ra", "Toy Dory Ree", etc.  It's like Disneyworld to him.  Unfortunately along with this love for the store comes this love for the items, and thus his mad spending spree begins.  Yet, he doesn't have money to spend, so what does this lead to?  Well, racking up credit, bankruptcy, homeless-ness....oh wait, he's 4.5 so this does not apply.  It leads to a fit of screaming, kicking, punching, hair pulling, throwing items, trying to climb out of the cart, knocking things of the shelves, etc etc etc.  Have you started judging yet?

Usually when I bring him in to Walmart, I talk to him first about what he would like to buy.  Usually it's stickers, bubble bath, band aids, something that only costs a few bucks.  That I can manage.  I talk to him at length (usually the whole car ride to the store) about "This is what we are going to Walmart for"  and "This is ALL we are going to Walmart for."  He seems to understand in the car just fine.  But as any child faced with Disneyworld in front of them, he goes buckwild when we enter the store and forgets all cognitive abilities, getting drunk off the fumes of propaganda, and loses all sense of what we came there to do.

So with that said...Tyson wanted bubble bath today.  "Bideyman" bubble bath.  I needed dog treats, some stuff for my hair, a booster seat for Cooper (yay, he finally hit the right weight for it!), and some kind of vitamin my psychiatrist wanted me to try for sleeping before having to take another prescription that I really wasn't fond of (that's a whole other story).  Game plan:  Go in the store, get half the things I need, "find" bubble bath and let Ty pick out which one he wants, then finish what I need to get as he marvels over his new possession in the cart, pay for items, and VOILA!  Out the door unscathed.  How can I be so naive???

I didn't even get one of my items before Ty went off on his tirade.  He wanted new band aids.  Um, we have 5 boxes at home of all his favorite characters and we have a rule that he only gets one a day (even though he usually gets more at school because he also has one box in his go-bag and Miss Beth bought him his very own Scooby Doo band aids because she loves him, but doesn't realize he's turned into a band aid monster!!!!).  So, "No band aids today, Tyson.  We will get a new band aid when we get home."  "Oh, ok".....

Not a second later, TOOTHBRUSH!!!!!  "No!"  A little more of a fight this time, but not too bad....Got my hair stuff, got dog treats....Off to find bubble bath.

On our way, PILLOW PETS!!!!  I quickly averted.  Phew, he only mentioned it once, didn't ask for it but said while we passed, "Ooooh Pi-yo Bet!"....still getting to the bubble bath.

BUZZ WIGHTYAH!!!!!  Ducked into another aisle and got Ty to play a game of hide and seek with the bubble bath.  He was it, bubble bath was hiding.  "Where are you, Bubble Bath??"  Forgot Buzz within a few seconds, but until not after a very loud and slightly embarrassing, "NOOOOOOOOOOOO BUZZZZZZZZZZZ".

WOO HOO!  Found bubble bath.  But oh no, there's Bunge-Bob, Doy-ra, Tinkiebell, Bidey-man....oh how do I choose?  Oh, I know, let's get them ALL!!!!!  Um, no..."Tyson, you wanted Spiderman bubble bath.  Here you go, sit back down and we can get the rest of mommy's stuff."  Hold on, not that easy mom!  Mini melt down about not having every single bubble bath in the store.  Strike that, not so "mini", more like "WORST MOM IN THE WOOOOOOORLD" battle....I don't know how but I got him passed this one.  But I did…..but only for a second.

On my way to get the other two items I needed and we pass stickers in the stationary department.  Operations overload!!!!  Bunge-Bob, Cars, Gooby Doo, Doy-ra, Woody, Ironman, Bideyman.....  "Ok, Ty, if you would like stickers, you can pick one out and put the bubble bath down."  Negotiations begin. 

"Oh ok, how bout Bunge-Bob dickers (yes, I realize how he says that is pretty dirty!  Change your thoughts people!), and Bideyman bubbo-bath?" 

"No, Ty, I said one of the other." 

"Oh, ok, bye Bideyman Bubbo-Bath, Cars dickers and Bunge-bob dickers and Bideyman Dickers."

"No, one!"  Hold your ground, you can do it!

"How bout Bunge-bob, Doy-ra, and Cars dickers?" (I'm serious, this is exactly how he talks)

"ONE, Tyson."

"Doy-ra!!!"  Good, I did it.  He picked one.  He didn't fight me.  He didn't care that the bubble bath got put down on the shelf (which I made him do himself so that he knew it was his choice).  Yessssss, shopping trip almost done.

Pull away from stickers off to find my other two items. "BUUUUUUUUBBBBOOOOOOOO BAAAATHHHH!!!!!!!!"  Damn.  I explained to him calmly what we had agreed on--Bubble Bath OR Stickers.  I told him we are done, he made his choice, now we have to go finish shopping and go home.  I buckled down for a battle of wills; surely I would get some fight back, but didn't expect all out warfare!

I kept going through the store to get to my items, all the time talking really quietly to Tyson (because raising my voice shows that he got a rise out of me) saying over and over that he picked stickers, "I know it's sad that we cannot have both, but luckily we have bubble bath at home."  At this time his pleas got extremely loud and unintelligible.  I'm serious when I say I had no idea what he was saying.  "Ida bubba da ome an da dicka bide ah muh ows."  Yah, did you get that?  I didn't.  And the fact that I didn't understand him made him that much more upset and frustrated.  1) I don't get what I want.  2) You don't understand what I am saying.  3) I blow up!!!

He started throwing things out of the cart then tried throwing himself out of the cart.  At this point, he DOES NOT get what he wanted whether I even knew what he wanted or not.  At least not with me, Gramma, Daddy, maybe even Gram, would give into him to keep him quiet in public, and honestly, I don’t blame them really.  With me though, no way.  I took the stickers from him, and again quietly and calmly said, "Oh I'm sorry.  I know you are so mad, but you may not act like that in the store.  Now Dora has to stay here.  That is sad."  And I put the stickers down on the shelf.  I fooled myself into thinking I would be able to get my shopping done for just one split second and then gave in to the fact that the other two items would have to wait until another time.  I had a full blown meltdown-tantrum on my hands and I would be lucky to get out of there without a SWAT team's help.

I tried to calm him down by hugging him and using my soothing voice, but he flailed around, kicked me, punched me, threw my glasses off my face, and I'm pretty sure I only have half a head of hair now.  He was going to throw this tantrum whether I tried to stop him or not.  So why make us both exhausted and irate?

I've been working on staying calm and effective in situations a LOT lately.  I've also been working on not worrying about what others think of me or what's going on.  So here's what I did.  Ty wanted out of the cart.  I held on to his shirt sleeve and walked alongside the cart to make sure he would stay in it and safely, but I allowed him to throw his fit.  Yes people looked at me, I knew some were pitying me, some were angry at me, etc.  But really, I didn't care.  My concern was keeping my son safe, teaching him a lesson, and not losing my cool or working myself up.  So I saw them, and let it roll off my back.  They do not know all the facts.

I was really proud of myself.  I got him to the check out (self check out so I could do it at my own pace), kept my hand on him, used my other hand to ring up all the stuff, had some lady saying, "Let me guess, he didn't get what he wanted.  I totally know what you are going through, I have five..."  (and preceded to tell me every single thing each of her five kids have done in the last 10 years in grocery stores).....wait, pause, I must stop here.  Here's another judgment issue.  My first thought was, "Dammit lady, does it LOOK like I want to talk to you right now?"  But then I thought, "Maybe she just feels sorry for me and wants me to feel like I'm not the only one."  So although she was bugging the shit out of me, I let her talk.  It made her feel better. In fact, it made me feel better to not let it bother me to the point where I wanted to gouge out her eyes and scream at her that she wasn't helping....onward....paid for my stuff and phew, out the door.  Still with a screaming, flailing Tyson, still using my nice soft voice and explaining that I understand how he feels and next time we will have to work harder on not acting like this in the store.

I got him in the car (more accurately, I wrestled him into his seat and sat on him until I got him all buckled and locked in there so he could kick and scream and throw punches but couldn't get close to me, Muah ha ha ha!).  Got into my seat.  Looked at myself in the rear view mirror and smiled.  Then I cried.

I was completely beat.  But more than that, I was soooo proud of myself.  I didn't let his tantrum make me so mad and frustrated that I couldn't handle it.  I didn't let what others think of me make me act differently or let it bug me.  I didn't hit my child at a point where I knew nothing else would have worked (something I try really hard to hold fast to). Sure Tyson was still crying, but I did it.  I got through that and I got through it in a way that was better than I ever had before.

So if you have read this whole thing, I'm glad you stuck with me and felt my pain. But most of all, I just want all of you to remember next time you are in the store and a kid goes crazy, you don't know the half of it, so don't make assumptions.  Remember Tyson, and remember me.  And next time your child acts up in the store, stop thinking of what other people are thinking of you, don't let it bother you.  Remember that THEY don't know.  You do...and you can do it too!