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Obviously She Thought I Was Beating Our Son

Filed Under: Gifs, Life
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I make a concerted effort to ensure I warn our kids about changes to a normal routine.

If we’re going to have to change the way something goes, I’m going to warn these two about the change so many times they end up rolling their eyes because I’ve warned them so many times.

We were going to Target after we picked up Cara and I warned Ollie MULTIPLE times we weren’t taking a snack with us because he would be getting one at Target. What did he do while we were sitting in the pick up line? Threw a huge fit because I hadn’t brought him a snack.

We picked up Cara and went to the gas station.

I told them both, “We’re not going to get any candy or anything to drink here because we’re going where?”

Them: “Target.”

Me: “Exactly.”

We were about five steps into the gas station when Ollie started screaming at the top of his lungs. He fell to his knees and continued screaming. Between screams he wailed he wanted candy and he wanted something to drink. Mind you, he had been 100% FINE outside of the store.

I got down to his level, looked him right in his eyes, and told him to button his lip and stop making a scene. I asked him to take a deep breath and calm down.

“I cannot!” he screamed.

I picked him up–and he was screaming “Ow!” the whole time I was holding him and making himself stiff as a board–and carried him to the bathroom.

I turned on the light, locked the door and smacked his bottom–THROUGH HIS PANTS, folks.

Of course he was still screaming and showing out but I explained to him why he had gotten a spanking. Our kids might get spanked occasionally, but they always receive an explanation as to why they received a spanking.  By this time he was sprawled–face down–on the bathroom floor and kicking his legs.

I tried to pick him up and he went stiff again–LOVE it when he pulls that crap–screaming “ow” and kicking at me. [For the record, Tucker just had to talk to Ollie last night about saying “Ow” when he wasn’t really hurt. Hell, Tucker even busted out the Boy Who Cried Wolf story.] I thought the bathroom would help minimize the amount of a scene he was going to make. I hadn’t counted on the bathroom echoing. Extra special, let me tell you.

I finally got him off the floor and was calming him down when I heard a knock at the door. I mentally flipped the door the bird and kept on calming Ollie down. He took a deep breath, apologized for throwing a fit, gave me a hug and I unlocked the door.

The store manager was on the other side.

The woman glared at me and ran her eyes up and down Ollie–who was sitting on my hip–and then over Cara and back to me. She put her hands on her hips and didn’t move; we were blocked in the bathroom.

“Is everything OK, ma’am?”

“Yeah. He’s four. He was throwing a fit. He’s calm now.”

“Well, I just had to make sure he wasn’t hurt.”

The woman had STILL not moved.

After spending I don’t know how many minutes stuck in a small, echoing bathroom with a screaming kid, I wasn’t exactly cordial.

“He’s fine. Obviously.”

The woman finally got out of our way but tailed us around the store. I don’t know if she was waiting on me to like slam him to the floor or hit him over the head with a bottle or what but her hands never came off her hips and she was always about ten feet away.

It scares me to think I could have opened the door to a Base cop.

Did I do anything wrong? No. Do I still worry about stuff like that? Of course.

It took a call to Tucker and then to my mom to calm me down and I’m still not as calm as I’d like to be.

It’s also taken me this long to realize why I was so damn mad after the whole thing was over.

I wasn’t embarrassed. I thought that was the problem. Nope.

It was the judgy look she had plastered to her face and her assumption I was beating my kid. That’s what I was reacting to and that’s what pissed me off.

I can only imagine how the whole thing looked–and sounded–to her but I was being a good parent. Not only did I not “give in” to him and just buy him some candy to shut him up, I removed us from the situation and we didn’t move on until he had calmed down and was behaving like a [somewhat] rational human being.

I feel very discombobulated right now.

discombobulated

Comments

  1. So this happened a couple of hours ago. “Obviously She Thought I Was Beating Our Son”… http://t.co/3pefXfVW

  2. I hate how people judge others for dealing with their children, and it doesn’t seem to matter that you are dealing with them in an appropriate way. If you aren’t caving in and teaching your child that it is ok to be a spoiled brat and scream until you get your way, you obviously are abusing your child. WTF is this world coming to?!?!! I am pissed off for you!

  3. Dude I so feel you right now. My youngest is four as well and throws fits like no other. His siblings never did it. And the stiffening of the body O.M.G! I try my hardest to ignore the stares and the looks, comments, glares because if you’ve never dealt with it you have no room to say anything. It still occasionally gets to me and I have my cry of frustration but it sucks.
    Oh hey wanna swap stories and make each other feel better 😉

    • I’ve decided three year olds are the devil and he just turned four last month so HOPEFULLY he’ll grow out of this crap. They’re usually pretty good in public but not so much today. 😀

  4. PsychoChick966 says:

    As you already know Amy, you did nothing wrong.  Your reaction to the woman checking on Ollie, is normal.  I think just about everyone would be feeling the same way.  So whatever you do, don’t beat yourself up about that.  When my eldest was in 1st grade, and was on an antibiotic that has to be refrigerated, she would bring the medicine into school, give it to the nurse to put in her fridge, and then she would pick it up before she got on the bus to come home.  This one day, she forgot to pick it up.  

    My daughter’s teacher surprised me with a home visit, and she had the bottle of medicine with her.  She explained that the school nurse told her Gwen (my youngun) forgot it.  I thanked her of course.  We were standing in my kitchen at this point.  Then, I got a curveball.  She started by saying, “Now, none of us believe it, because we know you….but Gwen told the school counsellor, me and the nurse, that you make her read signs around your house, and when she doesn’t, or doesn’t do what they say, you put her in the basement in chains.  

    I think my heart probably stopped for a second, and my brain had to reboot.  Gwen had NEVER done anything like this before, ever.  She had experienced preschool the year before, and we had no issues.  She was in school a year early, but was handling everything really, really well.  So, trying to sound as calm as possible, I explained where I think at least part of Gwen’s story came from.  I had a sign at her shelves that contained some of her toys and books, to remember to clean up after she was finished playing with them.  That was it…so that explained the sign, but after that, I can’t even imagine what possessed her to say that!  

    I called her into the kitchen.  I told her what her teacher just told me (my husband was with me at this point too).  I asked her why she’d say something like that.  She said, “I don’t know.”…and that was it.  Her teacher started, and explained to Gwen why it was not a good idea for her to have said what she did.  We all talked about it, and KIND of laughed about it a little then…Like, oh these kids!  Can you believe what they say?!  I was still freaked out inside though.  Very.  Later, I talked to her about it again, just to make sure she understood..  and she did.  She never did anything even remotely like that again.

    Here’s the thing.  You wouldn’t have been upset about the whole thing… that it happened, your reaction to the store manager, if you were a shitty mom.  You’d have simply “Pffft” and blown it off.  You didn’t.  You care.  I know you think you cared more about what she thought of you at that moment, but that’s a normal reaction.  It is, it really is.  

    Anyone would have their feathers riled up about this.  Just give yourself some time to soak it all in, and get it all out again.  Go shoot shit in a game or something… I know it helps me.  I don’t have little ones anymore, but it helps me get out my frustrations.  It couldn’t hurt, anyway.  I’m glad you posted about it.  Hopefully that will have helped you rid yourself of some of the toxic energy you got from all of this too.  
     

    • OMFG! I would have tried to crawl into one of my kitchen cabinets out of utter mortification!

      That so sounds like something Cara would come up with. She brought home some of her Halloween artwork from school and her task was to draw a scarecrow and they had to write, “I am a scarecrow.” at the bottom of the paper.

      Since I put together the “Wednesday folders” for her class, I got to see what all the other kids drew and almost all of them were bright, sunny pictures of pumpkin patches with a scarecrow in the middle of the page.

      Cara’s was this dark grey scene with this black creature in the middle. I saw it and thought, “Man, Cara must have had a REALLY shitty day that day.” It concerned me enough that I even called Tucker on my way home to warn him we needed to talk to her about the picture. 

      ANYWAY. Apparently the reason she drew what she drew is she was drawing Skyrim–the game–and the scarecrow was in a castle and he was going to fight a dragon but she didn’t have time to draw the dragon. 😀 

  5. PsychoChick966 says:

    I really DID want to climb into the cabinets, lol….I was so scared I was gonna see my kids being taken from me, and I was SO surprised Gwen did that in the first place!!  That shit rocked my world…NOT in a good way.  Effin’ kids.  Gotta love ’em.  😉  lol

    Lol Amy, your story about Cara’s picture sounds like something I’ve seen in the movies and t.v.  I can’t remember which ones, but I know I’ve seen it in plots where a kid draws something disturbing and then it’s of course, looked into.  I can totally imagine the panicked feeling that you had to have felt….that jolt that runs through the very center of you and puts you in another world, with your heart pounding…sick to your stomach.  So glad it was much more pleasantly explainable than it was in the movies I’ve seen.  😉  

    I swear Amy, I totally feel your pain.  Let out your breath girl.  It’s all cool beans now.    

  6. PsychoChick966 says:

    There is justice Amy.  My eldest, speak-of-the-devil, just IM’d me to say that her cat just drug his ass across the carpet, leaving a 2-inch long poop streak behind.  Lol.  

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