A Gold Star for Mama

Little Man had two public meltdowns today. I've been dreading the day that this occurs and I pictured myself getting sweaty, frantic, and dashing out of a store without looking back. But in reality I was calm, patient, and we both survived.

Scene #1: Snip-Its, a hair salon for kids.

I've been meaning to get Little Man shoes for about a month now, but he's been sick, we've been busy, blah, blah, blah. So today we went to Viera, an outdoor shopping mall about 45 minutes north of our home. We got there a little after 9 a.m. and discovered that most of the stores didn't open until 10 a.m. (Side note: Seriously, business owners, 10 a.m. is ridiculous. We've been up since 6 a.m. and we're itching to get our errands done, so get your lazy butts out of bed a little earlier and open your stores!) We stopped by the book store and walked around to window shop.

Then, we discovered Snip-Its. It's a children's hair salon that is decorated with toys, colorful contraptions and animated movies for little guys and girls to watch while they get their hair trimmed. So, I figured we'd quickly stop in, get a quick hair cut and then buy our new big-boy shoes. Little screamed nearly from the time he hit the swivel chair. At one point, he actually wriggled out of the safety strap and nearly made a getaway. Nothing would appease the dear child. No amount of bubble-blowing, video-watching, lollipop-bribing would work. He just reached his chubby little arms out to his mama and screamed. It quite possibly was the longest hair cut of my life, but just kept repeating soothing words.

"It's O.K."

"It doesn't hurt."

"We're almost done."

"Awww. It's tough being a big boy."

He finally got his lollipop, I paid and was relieved we were done.

Scene #2: The shoe store

By the time we made it to the shoe store, Little Man was contentedly sucking on his lollipop. The store was filled with little boys, so he smiled and was making friends while his mama perused the shoes. He consented to his foot being measured. He smiled sweetly for the sales lady when she put on his new shoes. But, he did not like the shoes. He stomped his feet, pounded his little fists, laid on the ground and CRIED hysterically. He absolutely refused to stand or walk in the shoes and he only stopped screeching when I put him back in his stroller. The nice sales lady assured me that he was not the worst she'd seen, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. By the time we got home, he had recovered from his shoe opposition and was happily walking around the house.

Mama survived both meltdowns. Now, where's my gold star?