For the first time in 7 years of being a mom, I had to do the walk of shame out of our local Target with a screaming child.
I’ve never done this before. And, I suppose, I should be thankful that it has taken this long to have this experience. You know, the one where you desperately try to get your child to calm down in the store for just a few minutes so you can finish the trip and get home with your errands done.
Yeah, not so much.
Biz, who is not quite 4 yet, had different plans last Friday afternoon in Target.
I guess it’s kind of my fault. I knew the timing wasn’t so great. It was Friday, after all. On Friday, my kids are tired after a long week of school, daycare and other activities. The last thing they want to do is go shopping.
However, we had a long day ahead of us on Saturday, with soccer, a planned outing to a pumpkin festival with friends and a birthday party.
All I needed to do was buy two gifts. The party was for a brother and sister who were turning 1 and 3 respectively. I explained, as I always do before these type of trips, exactly what we were going in the store to buy. Presents for their friends. That’s it, and we’d be done. If they were good, we might take a look at the birthday invitations, since Biz’s birthday is coming up in November.
Usually this strategy works. But, not last Friday. I asked Biz which squinky set his friend might like best. (And, by the way, what the heck is up with these squinky things? This is why I hate venturing into the girl aisles.) I gave him a choice of two different sets. He decided to choose a much bigger and more expensive set. When I explained that his choice was nice but not an option for us, he screamed.
And then it all pretty much fell apart from there.
I can usually turn my kids’ bad behavior around in situations like this. I crouched down to his level and explained why we couldn’t get his set, noted that he could still make a choice from the other sets and even pick out some wrapping paper. But Biz was adamant that we get this particularly large princess-themed squinky set for his little friend.
I could tell there was nothing that I could say to make him calm down. He was done. Done with the week. Done with shopping. Done with doing things he didn’t want to do.
So, I took his hand and, after some coaxing (and maybe a little fighting), walked out of the store. Me with my head held high because I wasn’t about to let a screaming child dictate my purchases. Biz still crying and complaining. G following behind wondering when we’d get to purchase the birthday presents.
Biz spent some time in his room on Friday. He noted that he was tired and told me he wouldn’t scream in Target again. Here’s hoping. He actually seemed to feel bad after the event. He knew I wasn’t happy.
I went back to Target, alone, the next day to purchase the gifts in between soccer and our fall festival excursion.
Have you had to do the walk of shame with a screaming child?
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