This post has no eggnog. No holiday bliss. No ribbons and bows.

It’s not about making memories. It isn’t even very Christmasy.

This post is for those moms trying to shop while dragging little ones along.

And for the unfortunate shoppers around you during inevitable meltdowns.

Recently, my toddler formed this bad habit of saying “stupid” when he’s not happy. While it’s not the worst word in the world, we have been working diligently on his vocabulary choice.

It bubbled to the surface while grocery shopping, and I warned him that if he continued choosing to say bad words, he would not get the donut I offered earlier.

Well, guess what? He said it again. So I calmly told him we couldn’t get a donut. I encouraged him that next time he would use the right words and get a donut then.

Well, what do you think happened? Yep, meltdown.

Now he doesn’t normally do this. Maybe it was close to naptime. Maybe it was too much shopping at once (I had already been to one other store). Who knows what triggered it, but it came on full force.

I’m pretty sure he complained “I want a donut” 27 times. I’m not even exaggerating. Some were small whines, some were unrecognizable with tears, and others were full-fledged shouts that bounced up and down every aisle in the store.

Imagine my embarrassment. Heading to the checkout lane with a full cart, I hesitated. Do I take him out of here and leave my cart, or try to get the groceries? I opted to check out, as I didn’t want the employees to have to return all my food. Plus, I needed the groceries.

Rather than throw my stuff on the conveyer belt, I moved quickly but calmly, to show him he wasn’t getting to me. But my toddler was not deterred. He can be pretty stubborn. I don’t know where he gets it. 🙂

Someone behind me hightailed it to a different checkout lane. I didn’t blame her.

I tried to talk to him, but honestly, he was in that zone. Do you know that zone? The zone of I’m-not-ready-to-be-calmed-down-yet. Heck, I’m not sure he could hear me through his repetitious, “I want a donut” cries.

So I focused on finishing my task and paying as quickly as I could.

“Would you like a candy cane?”

I whirled around when I heard this. Someone had approached him. An employee, I think.

“Oh, I’m sorry. He can’t have that.” I quickly said, handing the candy back to her. “He isn’t acting the right way.”

Please understand, I begged her silently. I’m sorry you have to hear his crying. You have no idea how sorry I am. And I know you’re just trying to help. But…

I can’t give in.

Besides the fact that I don’t want him thinking strangers are nicer than his mama, or heaven forbid, that he should ever accept candy from a stranger, he cannot be rewarded for his behavior. He didn’t get the donut for bad behavior, and ending up with a candy cane is not going to fix that.

I beg you, please just let him cry. Trust me, I know how hard it is.

Moms, I’m warning you now. You will have people give you dirty looks. Perhaps they’re thinking, Why can’t you make your kid shut up? I’m hoping those are the non-parents. But I guess it’s possible other parents’ kids don’t ever have meltdowns. Maybe?

As a parent, I would never judge, only look on with empathy and try to tell another mom that I understand.

In fact, several grocery employees, bless them, shared their understanding, when I said, “I’m sorry.”

The woman bagging my food looked at me. “Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there.” Then she added, looking at another counter, “Well, Shelly hasn’t yet, but she will soon,” she teased.

“Then I’m sorry for you, too.” I smiled at Shelly.

Because it will happen to most of us. At least once, probably more.

Dealing with meltdowns at home isn’t fun, but the ones in public are worse.

It’s because I love him dearly that I can’t give in. Even in public.

Adults can have meltdowns, too. We might not be repeating “I want a donut” over and over, but we may be thinking other things.

Like, why can’t I just go to the bathroom once by myself? Seriously, why can’t I be alone for two seconds?

Or, why can’t the house be free of clutter for more than a couple hours after I spent four cleaning it up?

Or, why do I have to ask hubby for some time to run errands while he grabs time whenever he likes – alone, mind you?

Rather than cry, whine, and kick our legs, we pout, disengage, or show our cranky selves.

It’s hard not to grumble once in a while. And while we may be justified in feeling slighted, or taken for granted, does it really make us feel any better? Does it improve our situation, or make it worse? Just as I tell my son his whining will only make things worse, I need to take my own advice. I need to take His advice.

     “A joyful heart is good medicine, but
a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” 
                                       Proverbs 17:22

So shoppers, store clerks, and anyone else around me, please understand. I’m not being mean. I’m not mistreating him. I’m trying to teach him right and wrong. And do my best to keep a joyful heart as I’m doing so.

So please just let him cry.

Next time I go to my grocery store, I think I’ll hand out candy canes to those employees who were so understanding.

Or ear plugs. They might be more useful. 🙂