Toddler Tantrums, Bamberger's and Bagels

When I was pregnant with our first child, my good friend Beth and I went over to visit a friend who had a rambuctious toddler. He had two friends over for a playdate and things got loud pretty quickly. So our friend started yelling at her son to quiet down. This went on for some time, maybe 10 minutes or so. So Beth went over to the young boy and whispered something in his ear. Of course he couldn't hear her with all the yelling going on so he quieted down. Well, that's all it took to start a calmer and thankfully, quieter atmosphere. I thought it was sheer brilliance!

I found out later (actually just last week), it may look easy but when it's your own child throwing the tantrum (also a just-purchased bagel across aisle 5 while trying to escape sitting in a Stop and Shop grocery carriage) it takes all the patience in the world not to lose it then and there. I take deep breaths. I think calm thoughts. Even happpy thoughts hoping Tinkerbell will appear on the scene with some magic fairy dust to whisk me away from the stares I'm receiving. Especially from the older lady with silver hair who approaches my toddler and sweetly asks, "Awww, do you want to come home with me?" I strode quickly to aisle 6 while muttering under my breath, "You can take her!" But a part of me wanted to say, "Yes. Yes I do. Can you promise me I'll get to watch the Today show instead of the Disney Channel? Can I drink a glass of merlot on Wine Wednesdays with Hoda and Kathy Lee instead of Phineas and Ferb, a juice box and mac & cheese? Oh, what's that? You didn't mean me? Oh, sorry. But what about me?!"

And with that thought I suddenly switch places with my own mother circa 1971, to Bamberger's department store in Morristown, N.J. My mom took my twin sister and me shopping there (please, if you remember Bamberger's before it became Macy's during the '80s let me know). As a child I thought it meant we would get to eat hamburgers and fries but that never materialized.

After an afternoon of running errands with us in tow, our final stop for the day was Bamberger's. I'm sure naptime was creeping up because as my mom told it, she was trying to calmly exit the revolving door with two whining, crying and screaming toddler girls. A lady (maybe another silver-haired one?) was entering the store the opposite way through the doors. She looked at us and sweetly said, "Oh, those poor things!" My mom looked at her and said, "What about me?!"

She told this story many times when we were growing up and it became a favorite family anecdote. Fast forward and now I'm in the stage she once was. It's not the first time since having my second daughter at age 41 that I wondered how my mom managed it all and how I wish we could recount together our trip into the "terrible twos" of toddlerhood.

When my youngest tests me with tantrums, whining, etc., and I am rapidly approaching the end of my rope when she does something gross like chew an old gum wrapper (gosh I hope she found that on the inside of our car!), I look upwards and ask, "Really God? I'm too old for this!" You really have a sense of humor!" Sometimes it's a passing thought, sometimes a whine of my own, and other days I say it aloud with a big laugh.

I can't say I enjoyed the recent supermarket meltdown when I was in the thick of it, but later when I had time to reflect, I did feel a sense of comfort knowing my mother and I experienced similar situations albeit decades apart. It made me feel like a part of me is the same as her. It was nice to feel close to her in a mom-to-mom way since she passed away before I was a mom myself. It made me wonder what it would be like to sit, chat, laugh and trade parenting challenges when she was my age. I would very much like to be able to invite her to my house and do such a thing. Hmmm, just a thought, but I might do just that during the solace of an upcoming quiet winter afternoon over a cup of tea and toasted bagel.