Avoiding a Shopping Spectacle
I felt myself losing it and nearing a meltdown moment last weekend.
We were out of town and I ventured out to the nearest Walmart, about a half-an-hour away. I had a list of things to get and, not wanting to make another trip down the mountain, didn’t want to forget anything.
I was trying to remember everything on my list (i.e. hear myself think) while fielding a gazillion questions from my children:
“Mom, can we get Poptarts?” “Mom, can I go look in the clothing section?” “But WHY is it hard to push the cart with me hanging on it?” (after asking him to let go of the cart for the 15th time) “Mom, look at this [random thing I care nothing about].” “Mom, can I get a new toothbrush?” “Mom, can I get this $100 Lego set?” “Why can’t I ride on the cart?” “Moommmmmm, this bump in my lip is still hurting.” “Mom, can I get a Nurf gun?” “Mom, I know you said we aren’t buying toys today, but can I get this one thing and I SWEAR I will pay you back with the birthday money I got?” “Can I PLEASE just get something that costs less than $10?” “Can I at least get a candy?”
I felt my body starting to get warm and I felt my brain literally struggling to keep up.
I’ve been talking a lot about mom rage and nervous system dysregulation lately, so thankfully, I was able to clue into these signs that I was becoming overwhelmed.
It wasn’t so much the annoyingness of the relentless requests but more so the stress of trying to listen and respond while also actively think and search for what I was there for. (FYI: Orajel is in the toothbrush aisle, not the cold sore section.)
At one point, I blurted out, “Can you please just stop asking me questions for a minute so I can look over my list of what I need?” – Which resulted in judgemental stares from a couple at the end of the super glue aisle. (Note to self: Next time I witness a frustrated mom losing her patience in a store, have compassion.)
I was able to notice myself becoming agitated and made the decision that we quickly needed to get the last few essential items and exit the store. No bartering over additional purchases. We were just done. (I also remembered why I hate shopping with children.)
I successfully avoided the explosive moment. I was able to tame the rage. Mom guilt still showed up in the form of feeling badly for not having more patience and for not feigning interest regarding the new flavor or whatever thing off the shelf they tried to show me. But I was able to have compassion for myself. A mom’s brain can only juggle so many things in a given moment.
I used the near-miss of a meltdown moment to educate my kids on nervous system regulation:
On the car ride back, I explained how I was feeling overwhelmed trying to listen to them while also trying to find the items I was looking for. I asked them to please, in the future, let me finish shopping before asking all the questions and showing me all the things. I have no clue if that approach will work (it would likely require a lot of restraint on their part), but just having the conversation helped me to re-regulate, and hopefully gave them some compassion for the limitations of a mom’s brain.
Surprisingly, nobody said a word about leaving the store without Legos, Nurf guns, new clothing, or candy. Their little nervous systems stayed regulated and they were okay.
I’m fairly certain that if I would have exploded, screamed at them, or stormed out of the store in rage, there would have been tears all around.
It’s not always possible to avoid the meltdown, but it’s a win when we begin to recognize signs that we are becoming overwhelmed. When we improve our capacity to stay calm, we have a better chance of avoiding the escalation of big emotions and the ripple effect of dysregulation.
