Baguette had a fantastic time on our trip. She enjoyed her train ride, in both directions. She loved going to the zoo. She could not have been more thrilled with the beach–walking, wading, castle-stomping.
Also she screamed a lot.
Baguette’s screams are like some kind of air raid siren. She screams like a banshee. It’s piercing. I’d like to say that only dogs can hear her, but that’s not true.
All of us can hear her.
It was a big week, and that’s not always easy. She was off her routines. She had a bit of a tummy bug. One of her teeth is loose. She had a lot going on.
She did enjoy the things we did. But I think we’re in a phase where it is hard for her to be away from home. It’s important, because disrupting her routine–while disruptive–tends to result in gains for her. We’re pretty sure that after this trip, she is thisclose to truly reading.
But it’s not easy–for us, but even more so for her. Our girl works so hard, and it can take a lot out of her. I’m so impressed with her persistence and her determination. I really want to focus on the positive, while helping her find new ways to deal with things that are hard. So I don’t want to give up these trips, but maybe we make them shorter, at least for the near future.
I know there’s a lot out there about angry diner owners and parents who were or were not paying attention to their child’s behavior. I don’t know the truth about what happened in that situation, or what any of those people does or does not face on a daily basis. But I know how much Baguette tries, and how much we try. So please, please, when you see a child out there having what looks like a tantrum, please keep in mind that maybe they’ve just had not enough, but too much. And that’s nobody’s fault.
More on this later. Because of course I have a story for you.
Also, I’m using this title for effect. Baguette was not “bad” and I don’t want to give anyone the impression that I think she was. But let’s face it, this aspect wasn’t “good,” and I mean from her perspective as well as mine. She doesn’t enjoy feeling this way.
The thing that annoys me most in these “discussions” about kids being disruptive is the way people pretend that adults aren’t sometimes disruptive. For example, my neighbor’s son leaves for work at 5:55 a.m. I know this because when he stays with her his motorcycle (and her dog’s resulting barking) wakes me up every damn day. I am somewhat amused by this turn of events because many years ago, when I lived near the beach, I had another neighbor with another loud motorcycle who also left for work at 5:55. That time, there was not just a barking dog to send him off but a car alarm that went off every damn day, too.
And yet, there aren’t angry social media storms about motorcycles, or barking dogs, or ridiculously sensitive car alarms.
(The motorcycle example is just an example. I don’t actually have anything against motorcycles, except at 5:55 a.m.)
I mean, obviously, I try to minimize the disruption my children cause other people. We tag-teamed so many meals when they were younger. We always tried to end any public tantrums if we could. But kids don’t come with a magic “shut up” button. Neither does anyone else, but somehow we mostly gripe about other people’s kids. We don’t acknowledge that everyone inconveniences other people sometimes.
Very true. I have a great many anecdotes from the days in our crappy apartment.
I find, when I encounter a parent who is dealing with a child mid-tantrum (a position I’ve found myself in, many a time), I give a nod — a “I’ve been there, I’ve done that, and heck, I’ll probably be there, myself, in a few minutes” look.
If there seems to be something that I can do to help, I *might* speak up . . . but, for fear of “coming in as a fixer,” I usually keep quiet.
Just know that there are those of us that know that tantrums happen.
So far (and I shouldn’t type this, because it’ll jinx it), Baguette’s tantrums and meltdowns tend to be in private. There’s no particular reason for that, that I know of. It’s just been the case so far.
If I say something, it’s either in solidarity or to pay a compliment. I once was in Target when a small child yelled “I hate you!” at his mother. I don’t remember exactly what she said, but I do remember that she kept her cool and corrected him without being angry. The next time I passed by, I said, “Hey, I wanted to let you know that I thought you handled that really well. My daughter isn’t at the point where she says that yet, but when she gets there, I hope I react the way you did.”
But I am very aware that I don’t know what someone else’s situation is, so I tend not to offer to help (unless it’s something really concrete, like the woman who was trying to balance her baby AND load a flat of strawberries into her car at Costco).