and then kate

The thing is, she doesn’t even drink soda.  Sure, the very occasional root beer now and then, but honestly, she’s a water-milk-and-apple-juice kind of girl, with a penchant for seltzer. I place the blame for the World’s Longest, Loudest, and Overall Worst-Ever (Ever) Tantrum squarely on the managers of Pizzaella, the hole-in-the-wall pizza spot in the neighborhood mall’s food court.  They put the transparent fountain dispensers right by the register, gleefully choosing to offer drinks with colors never, NEVER found in nature. The one that caught Aura’s eye Saturday (after I had already paid) was what I have come to think of as Sucker Blue. As in, “Parents! Ha HA! We got you, suckers! We made this soda such a gut-wrenching, stomach-churning, ultra-disgusting blue that only your children would ever think of it as potentially delicious!”

The rest of the story is sadly predictable: Aura saw the blue soda and wanted it. I said no, though I did hint at a future dessert if lunch went well. Suddenly there was a meltdown to beat all meltdowns, and when it didn’t end, I was forced to carry through and take her home with no lunch. As I gazed down at her, half-prone on the filthy food-court floor, her tears mixing with other people’s dropped french fries and crumpled receipts, I found myself oddly devoid of any embarassment whatsoever. Sure, I was spitting magenta flames of rage as I dragged her through the mall screaming and sobbing, and I certainly considered slapping her for the first time ever (deciding against it upon determining the resulting wails would be even louder than the current ones). But embarrased? Nah.

This is a fairly big deal for me, someone who has always worried too much about what others might think. It seems that parenthood has realigned the stars a bit for me, refixing emotional priorities and redefining “judgmental.” Before we had Aura, I’d raise an eyebrow at kids who screamed uncontrollably at Target, or gave Adam a knowing that-will-never-be-us look at restaurants when tantrums went on and on. But now, well, I just know better. Yes: Several of those tantrums I witnessed in stores and restaurants were probably the product of parents spoiling their kids, or setting a precedent of giving in if the screaming became loud enough. But I am sure many, MANY others were just parents letting their kids scream until they realized that things weren’t going to change–that they were just not going to get that blue soda. And to those parents, I say: More power to us, stay strong, and just don’t make eye contact on your way out of the store.

…………………..

Update #1: Aura screamed through the parking lot, all the way home, and while being forcibly carried to her bedroom and deposited in her bed, fully clothed and unfed. Wailing continued for one minute after the door was shut, and then there were two glorious hours of nap. When she awoke and Adam sat down with her for a tete-a-tete about tantrums, she readily admitted such behavior was naughty. Then she attemped to negotiate a blue soda on a future trip to the mall, offering to have it for dessert. Really, you have to admire such cunning tactics in a preschooler.

Update #2: In the spirit of full disclosure, Aura’s typical disposition is more like this:

Hmm.  Perhaps we just need to move closer to the ocean.  I’ll get right on that.