Tantrums aren't just for toddlers

I often find myself telling my husband that I need a break. From him. From the kids...from this little domestic life I've helped build. He usually looks at me like I'm crazy (which at that point I probably am) and let's me go...for an hour or two.

So this time I got a little help. My mom, two sisters and I planned a shopping day-a return of the annual sidewalk sale-in our hometown. We got a babysitter for three of our four children (the baby had to come with us) and we were off. It was a beautiful day. Good conversation. Lots of shopping. Like any other time we get together, it went by way too fast and we were left with untold stories, clothes we wished we would have gotten and a few too many calories. But we were relaxed and refreshed.

That is, until the next morning. Mom and I ran back into 'town' to hit a store I don't have access to here. This time, because men cannot watch two small children while they watch TV, both of my kiddos came along. Normally, this is no big deal. I have great kids who love to shop. But today, both were in need of more sleep. Their own beds. You get the picture.

My son and daughter both rode in the front of the cart...and he was either grabbing her arm or yelling in her itty bitty 9-month old ears or taking toys away from her the entire time. I tried patiently speaking to him about his behavior. I raised my voice slightly. I put my eyes four inches from his and clenched my teeth. I squeezed his arm so that I wouldn't cause a scene but he'd get my point...finally, in the juice aisle and in front of about 10 people, I broke.

Still clenching my teeth and with eyes the size of golf balls, I let out this strange scream/groan mix and told him I was done...as I turned to give myself a time-out, an employee came over and starting talking to my son. She gave the impression that she was afraid I was going to hit him. She gave me the 'you're-a-bad-mom-and-I've-figured-you-out' face and eventually walked away.

Yes, I felt bad. Yes, I was exhausted...and yes, I wanted to run away for a week or two and come back as though nothing happened. But my tantrum ended right then and there when my son looked at me with his huge brown eyes and pouty mouth and said: "Mommy...i really don't like her."

His innocence and brutal honesty save me every time.