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?

Temper, Temper

Um, wow. I think Little Man just had his first toddler temper tantrum. He's 11 months old, so he must be testing his growing independence and strength.

I got home from work today and heard him fussing in his crib. Apparently, he didn't sleep well today and was a bit worse for wear.

I went to pick him up and he proceeded to cry, shout, flail his arms and legs wildly, climb up me, lay down, and suck his thumb for the next hour. At that moment, I think I would have gladly taken at least another year of the newborn phase to bypass this tantrum one. It was ugly!

We walked, sang, jostled, smiled at, and cuddled him to no avail. Was it teeth bothering him? Diaper wet? Missing mommy cuddles? Hungry? Tired? All of the above? We're not sure, but we tried it all just in case. He finally calmed down, ate, and went to bed early. We survived, but barely.

It's funny because a lot of my friends have older babies and they've been down this road before. I've listened to their stories, advice, and stored it away for a later date. But, at that moment, my mind was completely blank. I couldn't remember a thing they had said. All I wanted was to comfort my little guy and make the crying stop.

Uh-oh

I sincerely hope that we do not have a biting phase ahead of us. But, I have a sneaking suspicion that we might.

On Saturday, we celebrated the Smartest Man Alive's birthday with friends and Burrito Bar. While my sister was playing on the floor with Little Man, she said, "Ouch. He just bit me!" Of course, I'm thinking "IMPOSSIBLE! He only has one tooth and he was probably just trying to give kisses and missed."

Little Man likes to roughhouse. He grabs hair and head-butts regularly. So, I was pleasantly surprised when he started pulling my face toward his with his mouth open. I assumed he was trying to give kisses. I might have been wrong.

A few minutes after the first incident, my sister reported a second bite. We told him no-no. We don't bite our friends.

I have closely followed Hillary's biting (mis)adventures at Not Raising Brats. Here's hoping I won't have to employ any of her advice.