Enduring Your Child's Public Meltdown
My husband and I have unintentionally, sub-consciously stayed away from the children's mansion known as Toys R Us. Don't get me wrong - this mansion sure does live up to its expectations. If you're in dire need of any toy, you're sure to find it in one of the never-ending aisles there (unless, of course, it's a holiday, and then you're on your own to face the mobs).
We typically stick to Target, Walmart, Kohl's, garage sales, or consignment sales for toys for our kids. Ava just turned 3 and isn't too particular just yet. Generalities (princess items) are much easier to work with than the particular doll and model number from the movie Tangled.
When birthdays roll around, we usually journey our way out to this great mansion, bearing up for what could be an emotionally charged visit for Ava. She turned 3 at the end of June, so we made our visit and entered those "pearly white gates" while ignoring the sliding doors and beeping sound that went off when we arrived.
"No, sweetie, we aren't buying that today. I'm sorry, but you can't have that Jeep. No, we don't need another baby doll. Maybe we can come back some other time and pick this up." Those are hard phrases to send through the ears of a 3-year old, but Ava really handled it well. There were a few items we did purchase, so I sent my husband to the check-out line while I took the kids somewhere else to distract our "days-away-from-turning-3" birthday girl.
We were almost home free! Nathan had purchased the items and we were on our way out the door. Successful trip! Yet, the 50 cent ride waiting for her at the front entrance was too much for her to bare at the end of what she thought was an empty shopping trip. She wanted so badly to ride in one of these things. Neither of us had any change, as we are loyal to carrying plastic these days, not to mention I can only imagine what nasty germs are lingering on it. I quickly told her that we weren't going to be riding on that tonight, assuming this would be enough. I was wrong.
Wailing, crying, and even stomping a food in anger began. It didn't help that it was 8:30 at night, but nonetheless, no excuse. A nice gentleman from Toys R Us asked if she needed a balloon since she was sad. I really should have said no - it seemed to be rewarding bad behavior - but in the end, I agreed to it. My husband and I were quite amazed at the display of tantrum, having not really seen this in her before. But it's one that we will soon not forget either.
How do you make it through your child's tantrums in public places?