When Your Child Has A Meltdown: And So Do You

My son tends to flip out pretty easily. I'm not quite sure why this is so. But it is. And he does. He has a pretty easygoing personality and is typically very mellow. However, every now and again he loses it and really flips. I'm finding as he gets older, the meltdowns are more dramatic. And I can't lie - they scare me. I've been fortunate so far that the meltdowns tend to occur only at home, when it's usually just he and I. It usually happens during dinner time and is usually because of something food related (although he can get pretty upset playing with toys (i.e. when he can't figure them out)). Last week it was because I gave him pizza with mushrooms. Turns out he doesn't like mushrooms (anymore). He grabbed his slice of pizza, while sitting in his high chair, tasted a mushroom, started to scream and cry (yes, there were tears involved) and threw the pizza across the room. A few weeks back it was because he wanted a donut from a box on the counter, which I had no idea he knew was there. He screamed, cried, threw himself on the floor and didn't stop until he had a donut in his hand. And even then, he was out of breath from the crying and it took him a few minutes to "calm down." Last night, as I attempted to serve him dinner (pasta with marinera sauce) he suddenly flipped out - threw the bowl and the spoon across the room and started screaming and crying and flailing his arms at me. I didn't know what to do. I tried to tell him it was okay. I tried to guess what had triggered this episode. I couldn't. I didn't know. I held him tight and just hugged him, all the while repeating "It's okay, it's okay." The crying and screaming continued. I finally found his pacifier nearby and that seemed to calm him. We sat there on the couch near his highchair, me hugging him tightly, rocking him while he worked on catching his breath and suddenly I had a meltdown. I couldn't help the tears from trickling down my face. So there I sat, sobbing. I felt helpless. My son was upset because he wanted something; something I couldn't figure out. He was bothered by something that I just didn't get. Something I missed. I hate that I can't help him at every difficult moment. I hate that I don't always understand him and know what he is trying to tell or show me. I hate that these moments take place; where my son is distraught and I am incapable of reading his little mind and making his distress go away.

Moms

There is this interesting yet weird dynamic between moms of kids that attend the same daycare. I noticed it those first weeks when Sebastian started daycare. Although, I couldn't put my finger on it at first. But there is an unspoken mom code. An ambiguous bond between moms...or parents for that matter. I don't have to be asked to look out for another mom's child. But I do. I watch, I pay attention, I notice. We look out for eachother in that sense without having to be told to. I guess because we want the same in return. Someone to have our back too and let us know if something is awry at the center or with our child(ren). And now that my son has been at his daycare for a year, I have come to "know" the other moms and dads that drop off their kids in his classroom. Niceties and pleasantries are often exchanged. Chit chat about our kids; how well they play together, how they got upset when one was on vacation, apologies when our child is responsible for hurting another, etc. But there is an oddness about it. About the fact that no one knows eachother by name.  That we only know eachother in this world. This world of signing in your kid, hanging his bag on his cubby hook, putting his ready made lunch in the fridge, setting up his breakfast, sharing toys with other kids and asking about diapers and naps. An oddness about the fact that outside of being (i.e. Sebastian's) "mom" we don't exist to eachother and don't even know one another's name. This morning for example, on the bus to the city, I noticed Izzie's mom was sitting in the seat in front of me and Tyler's mom was sitting in the row across from me. I looked at them, one reading a newspaper, the other checking email on her iphone, and almost said hello. Almost. But took out my book instead and decided, like them, I needed to take advantage of this 20 minute commute to work. After all, for us moms, this might very well be the only 20 minutes out of the day we get for down time. Instead of attempting a conversation, I joined in on the "me" time, read my book and enjoyed every second of that 20 minute commute where I wasn't Sebastian's mom but April...reading a book on the way to work.

17 Months

Dear My Little Cub,

Wow. You are officially 18 months old now. You sprinted right through that 17th month. This was a month filled with lots of fun and playdates. You weren't sick (thank goodness) and got to enjoy time with friends (our playdate with Ella and Jack, with E at Chuck E Cheese, with Julianna and Leah in LI, with Sophia at McDonalds, with Archer and Julianna at Woodbury Commons).

We did hit a major milestone this month. You graduated from the nursery to the toddler room at school. A whole 5 weeks early. You are now the youngest kid in the toddler room. But no one would ever be able to guess that. You are just as fast and wise as the others. I did raise an eyebrow though the first day I picked you up from the toddler room to find you playing with dolls and the next day playing with a tea set. But found a little relief in the fact that the following week you were pushing trucks around instead. So many new toys in the toddler room. Exciting times for you ahead.

Still not much talking going on but you understand everything. And I do mean everything. You are also very good at helping out and putting things away. Although, you are still really good at making messes too. You know where your hair, your nose, eyes, mouth and tummy are. You know who mama is and even who dada is. You try to put your shoes and socks on but still need help. You like to say "no, no, no" in your little munchkin voice that I love so much. I still can't seem to conjure up the strength to get you sleeping in your own bed. I can't help that I love cuddling up next to you at night and smelling your milky, baby skin. You are the sweetest most precious being that I have ever encountered. You have the most amazing giggle that sounds better than any music my hears have heard. You are so magical in every sense. I love you more each moment that passes...

Love,
Mama Bear

Growing up...

I know - they grow up. Infants. Babies. Toddlers. Kids. I know this. I expected this. But why am I having such a hard time with the fact that my little munchkin is starting in the big boy room at school tomorrow. He will no longer be in the baby room. No more crib. I'm a bit numb. Dumbfounded even. I just can't believe 17 + months have passed. I mean my little guy still wears footie pajamas. Doesn't that count for something? Doesn't that mean that he's still a baby? Un bebe? sigh. Just having a hard time with this one. Even though I know that come tomorrow he will be having a ball in the big boy room. Playing with all the new toys. Making new friends. I know this. But it's not him - it's me. It's all me. The mama having a hard time letting bits and pieces of the baby...go.