On March 6th, 2010 I posted an entry entitled "Parental Theatre" "The problem is," I wrote,"that as parents we haven’t given people (outside family or paid employees) the permission to help us even though we desperately need it." This was in reference to being left alone to handle my two and a half year old's tantrum in a restaurant. Nine months pregnant and utterly defenseless, I was convinced that strangers should have stepped in and offered their assistance. I claimed that I would not have been offended. With a kumbaya-spirit, I encouraged people to reach out and help me and each other.
Fast forward to February 14, 2011. I had to run a quick errand with my now three and half year old and nine month old daughter. My oldest, dressed in her princess-best informed me she did not want to go by screaming at the top of her lungs and throwing her hat at me while I tried to finish a conversation on the phone while parked in the lot of the grocery store. Her screaming and whining continued throughout every aisle while I tried to get what I needed and did my best to ignore her.
I'm a fan of letting kids cry. Let me clarify. When my daughter is in full meltdown mode and I know she is not in jeopardy I see no reason in trying to manage her tantrum. Reacting only fuels her fire. So, I let her kick, yawp, and moan. People marveled at her lung capacity and longevity as they passed by. In between deep cleansing breaths, I teetered between losing it and laughing it was so absurd.
At our last stop, Audra had convinced herself that something actually was wrong and was full on crying, with tears, red cheeks, quivering lips; the works. I made sure she wasn't sitting on something sharp, her temperature hadn't suddenly spiked, and she hadn't swallowed anything poisonous. She was fine so I recommitted to ignoring her after I wiped her tears and said, "I'm sorry you are upset."
Then, Grocery Store Lady (a store employee) flew up to the cart. "What's wrong, sweetie? Are you having a bad day?" Audra's fingers were in her mouth. "Is something wrong with your teeth honey? Are you teething?" Audra nodded. Audra is three. She wasn't teething but she had finally gotten her audience. "Oh," the woman empathized. Audra's crying reached the stratosphere. "That can really hurt," Grocery Store Lady informed me. Thank God. I had no idea teething hurt. "Can I give you something? Will that make you feel better?" Audra nodded, again. "Is that okay, Mom?" the woman asked. Nice of her to ask me after she already asked Audra. Even though I knew it would be a quick fix, I didn't want to reward Audra for her behavior. I told the woman I didn't think it was a good idea but the disappointment on Grocery Store Lady's face made me buckle under the pressure.
The woman went behind the counter and started blowing up a pink balloon. I looked at Audra who had a most satisfied grin on her face. We stared each other down like Clint Eastwood impersonators. Her smile grew wider and I had to hold my face tight so I wouldn't show any teeth. Audra-One. Mom-Zero. Grocery Store Lady-Below Zero because she should have stepped aside and not gotten up in my bizness. I didn't need her help if it was going to get in the way of what I was trying to do. I mean, did she think I wasn't aware that Audra was crying? Did she think she was saving the day by coming to the aid of this poor child whose death Mother couldn't hear her cries? Why didn't she pick up on the I-am-ignoring-you tactic I was clearly employing?
Grocery Store Lady couldn't have known what I needed, of course. She is not a mind reader. Nor is she my co-parent. Not her job. Now I see that unsolicited help is not helpful. Help when there is some cue that the parent wants help is helpful. So, forget most of what I said in that other post (though some of it is still very wise) Instead, remember, in most areas of life, keep your eyes open, don't judge and stay out of people's carts (especially when there is a kid in it.)