Thursday, April 8, 2010


I took Christopher to get a pair of sandals for the Spring/Summer season. He absolutely loved his sandals last year. He even had two pair then. Same style, different colors. This year I thought I'd hit up the shoe store early and have a nice selection to choose from.

But for some reason, Christopher decided to have a total melt-down at the store. He was fine until he saw the scary shoe lady coming towards him with her metal contraption to measure his feet. Stickers didn't even coax this wild child. He began kicking and screaming going into full freakout mode.

I've been told this is called a Public Display of Tantrum. These are the instances that you wish could stay in your home for no one else to see. We hadn't really experienced one until now. Sure he's had horrible tantrums, but always between our four walls. I've never been embarrassed by them before and I've certainly never been embarrassed to correct him before.

So there Christopher was, throwing his own PDT and not caring who saw. The amazing thing about these occurances is that other people, or even some times other parents, have the nerve to give you the look. The look that says, "How can you let your child get away with that?" Like I knew that my child was going to throw a screaming, snot flowing, fit. Like I don't know how to control my child. Like I'm a bad mother. One of the sales clerks even had the nerve to shake her head at me.

So I put Christopher in a time-out. Right there in the kid's aisle my son kicked his feet and started sobbing because Mommy was being mean to him. Embarassed, I continued to jam on different sandals to his feet as quickly as possible so we could leave and save the other shoppers from a migraine.

As soon as I let him up from the floor he ran as fast as he could away from me. He ran straight into the display shelf. Did I ever mention that Christopher has a problem of not looking where he's going? Well he does. So this started him crying all over again. He really didn't hurt himself, he was just extremely exhausted by this point. So as quickly as I could, I paid for his shoes and shoved him in the car where we could no longer be seen.

Two days later is was warm enough for him to wear his sandals to the park. I asked Christopher to go sit down in his shoe nook so we could get ready to go. As I reached for his sandals (instead of his tennis shoes) he freaked. Here we go again. I was actually able to get them secured to his feet and I stood him up. Christopher then screamed with his head on the kitchen floor for 8 minutes.

I gave up. I took off the sandals and put on his yucky, muddy, brown tennis shoes. Look, I'm not one to judge people. But Christopher was definitely the dork on the playground. He just looked so odd in his red shirt, blue jean shorts, white socks and brown shoes. I wish I had a picture to show you but I was just to embarrassed to take one.

I guess Christopher didn't care and he was comfortable, so that's all that mattered. I do feel a little ashamed that I thought he looked like a dork. I was probably the only person on the playground that noticed his unique fashion sense. But don't all mother's want our kids to be the coolest, cutest babies in the neighborhood?

It's been two weeks since our sandal incident and this morning as we headed outside I stuck my arm out the door to check the temperature (cause that's scientific calculation), it felt a bit chilly.  So I grabbed Christopher's brown tennis shoes and light jacket. Christopher who was standing behind me screamed, NO!!!  He immediately ran to his new (but dusty) sandals, held them up and said, help.

I replied, Christopher, it's cold outside, you need to wear your tennis shoes. And that's when he proceeded to freak out.

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