NOTE: I wrote this piece almost a year ago, but haven’t yet shared it (in part because I didn’t have a suitable picture — is that silly?  I finally decided to use a photo taken by someone else).  The other day as we were walking through this same market, and another person’s child was crying and crying.  My heart went out to the mother and the little girl, and as we walked by I quietly said, “I’ve been in your shoes, in this very market.  I promise it’ll pass, and that we all understand.”  A small smile replaced the anxiety in her eyes, as she whispered “Thank you.”  Sometimes it means a lot simply to know that you’re not alone.  So I decided to share my experience here.

Last week, my two boys and I went shopping at the market, and things seemed to be going well as we picked up the groceries we needed. We were laughing and singing as we walked through the produce department (yes, I am the mom who sings with her kids as we shop). By the time we left that section, each of my boys had a red bell pepper in his hand that he was eating like an apple. Things were going well. We picked up our bulk goods, calculated exactly how much cheese we needed in the dairy department (answer: a lot), and then headed to our final stop in the store before checking out. Each week when we’re at this particular market, my 5-year-old wants to stop and see the salt lamps. So we meandered over to the salt lamps, and were still doing well, until suddenly we weren’t.

All of the sudden, our easy-going excursion turned upside down, and my 5-year-old was sitting on the floor in tears because I wouldn’t buy a color-changing salt lamp that day. I tried reason, “You have a salt lamp at home. Do we really need another one?” I tried empathizing, “That new salt lamp really looks great, and it’s neat how it changes colors. I like it too. I can hear that you’re very disappointed that we’re not buying one right now.” I tried compromise, “You really want that salt lamp. I’ll tell you what, if you save up half of the money for it, I’ll pay for the other half.” None of it worked.

Finally, I sat down on the ground with him, and let him cry in my lap as he let out all of his sadness surrounding the salt lamp and whatever other underlying emotions were contributing to this strong reaction. And when the wave of sadness had passed, we got up together, gave each other a big hug and kiss, corralled my toddler (who was standing near us looking at candles and body care products), and went to pay for our groceries. In the end, it was simply my being present and standing witness to his disappointment that helped him to move through it.

Every parent has those moments. Those times when you’re in a hurry to get somewhere, or you’re trying to finish an errand, or you’re simply walking through life and feeling like things are going well when suddenly your child seems to implode. When we encounter these situations, it’s so easy to get caught up in trying to solve the problem. Sometimes the solution doesn’t lie in solving anything, the answer is simply to give our strong, loving presence and be with our child as he moves through his emotions.

We want our children to be able to express their full range of emotions. By being present with them as they convey even the most socially-uncomfortable feelings (uncomfortable for them or for us), we demonstrate to them our unconditional love, that emotions are a part of life, but that they are also fleeting, and that we can choose which emotions to focus on and to make a big deal about.

What do you do when your child melts down in the middle of a public place?