Last week I took Toddler to the park and I thought things were going great. We were playing (OK, she was playing and I was sitting at the picnic table enjoying an iced coffee) and generally enjoying ourselves. I thought to myself, “Today is the day I am going to let as much time pass as possible and tire her out so she isn’t a raging lunatic when we try to head to the car.”
I am an idiot.
It seems no matter where we go an how long we stay there, it is a battle to leave. We aren’t even able escape grocery shopping at Walmart without having a nuclear meltdown. Just this weekend she lost her mind on the way in because we wanted her to actually sit in the seated portion of the cart instead of the cargo portion. She has never sat in that part, so I honestly don’t know what she was thinking. Thankfully she was content to be carried by my husband while she snoozed on his shoulder – that fit might have been because she was overtired. However, she definitely wasn’t tired when we were at the checkout. She was running around with Husband while they weaved in and out of the men’s shirts and undies aisles. I pretended I didn’t know them until it came time for us to pay for the stuff I was ringing in. When it came time to roll out of the store she just screamed “No! No! No!” from one length of the store to the other while in Husband’s arms. We looked like we were stealing her, but instead I just loudly proclaimed to all the gawkers that, “She just really loves Walmart!” and we busted out of there.
I am hoping with all of my might and whatever kind of magic I can muster that this is just a horrible phase. I am done with her screaming as I football carry her to the car, her refusing to get up off the disgusting department store floor, the way I have to talk to her in public in order to satisfy the ever judgmental people waiting for us both to implode. It is a fine line. Either I am a sucky ass parent who can’t get a grip on Toddler, or I am a horrible-crazed-mother-screaming-like-a-banshee. That’s the two most common conclusions perfect strangers seem to jump to when they see these types of situations involving irrational children and their adult owners.
But, honestly, do you want to know a little secret?
I am friggin’ jealous of my child.
Her feelings go completely unguarded. If she doesn’t want to do something, she let’s you know it. You get to immediately feel what she is feeling and it is clear and easy to understand. She gets her point across.
But, someday she will grow up and her outbursts will simmer. Somewhere along the way she will be taught (not necessarily by me) to keep her true feelings hidden. Her tears – a sign of weakness. Her rage – a sign of female hysteria.
We have come to a time where “chill” is the word to live by.
If we aren’t able to control our emotions and be cool, we are considered too much to handle and labeled “dramatic.”
Honestly, I want to have a RAGING FIT about it.
I am a very emotional and energy giving person. I have been told by people that they can feel my energy when I talk to them or walk into a room. I have empathy that is so strong, I can feel the pain of someone who is hurting. I laugh loudly and without trying to muffle my sound. I over-analyze because I also read emotions and body language very well. I feel tension in a room and I often try to slice it down the middle. I cry at the sad parts of a book or movie and my face stays red for hours.
My feelings and my emotions are just as valid as the next person. Just because I can’t wear a mask to keep them tempered, doesn’t mean I am a wreck. It means I know who I am and I don’t mind showing it.
So, Dear Society, stop trying to tell me that my feelings are not to be exposed, because you will not get what you are wishing –
I. Will. Never. Chill.