Lowering a Toddler's Center-of-Misbehavity

I have been intending to write a post about the stages of a toddler meltdown, outlining the evolution of a real screamer (and by ‘screamer’, I’m not referring to the child). That story will most likely begin with some speculation on prehistoric Cromagnon tantrums and followed by commentary about genetics. It will also probably end with an anecdote involving me, two crying kids, a rainstorm, and a lost boot. Until then, I will briefly share another story that leads me to this post.

Children's clothes should have handles. Nice sturdy, comfortable ones.

Handles would provide parents with the first truly effective solution for comfortably and efficiently removing a mid-tantrum toddler or preschooler from a public place. At least this is what I considered during one of my least favorite activities of sudden-and-immediate child relocation. It's a rite of passage for all parents. Children will test limits and disobey instructions. The growing-up handbook indicates that this should be done with maximum drama and in the most public forum. I am finding more and more justification to take my young children to sporting events where they can scream and kick as much as they want. They could even puke, swear, and throw things at the officials. Nobody will notice.

The most recent edition of tantrum occurred at Barnes & Noble where the crowd usually seems to dissipate and employees begin to whisper upon our arrive. I'm surprised the manager hasn't slipped a bill for lost business into my pocket each time we go there.

As usual, my son (3.5 years), daughter (22 months), and I started at Starbucks to purchase a beverage that would wake-up Daddy. This is part of the preparation ritual and countdown to disaster. While walking towards the coffee shop, I was non-responsive while I prayed quietly that Pumpkin Loaf still be in season. When I neared the counter and noticed that Pumpkin Loaf had been removed from the menu. Unfortunately, my son has yet to grasp the concept of they don't have any right now and therefore you can't have any right now.

I ran interference with a Luna Bar, the whole nutrition bar for women (and toddlers). Shea had to have the same thing. Snack time in the cafe lasted about two minutes before the kids were ready to see books.

With coffee in hand, I led the kids to the children's book section where they promptly ran to the loudest books in the store. That's correct. Because they are kids and reading alone is too quiet, they are drawn to the items that will make the most noise for a normally peaceful activity. If you ever wanted to experience bleeding from the ears, try listening to the cacophony that is the simultaneous playing of Elmo flushing the toilet, The Backyardigans on a friendly pirate ship, the Alphabet Song in Spanish, and Dora the Explorer singing to a sick dinosaur.

After we had sufficiently annoyed some of the other parents by our noise, and hence satisfying the requirements of both childhood and parenthood, I announced that it was time to go. Both of my children followed, but my son was distracted by an alphabet book (this time in English) on the way out of the section. He picked up the book and started to bring it with him. When I told him that we weren’t buying the book, he started to get upset and repeat “But I want the alphabet book. But I want it.”

When I asked him to put the book back or give it to me, he held the book even more tightly. Yet, the game of opposites would not have worked here. I needed to be more firm. I gave him several chances before I took the book and placed it on the shelf, at which point we entered the next stage of tantrum. This phase is characterized by a cry that starts with eyes closed, neck arched backwards, and mouth wide open despite the silent cry. The yawn-gone-wrong then turns into a full-fledged crying fit.

On this particular day, I was not in the mood to negotiate the Great Toddler Pact of 2009. With one arm, I grabbed him by the waist and started carrying him to the main entrance. When I realized that my daughter was too embarrassed by the scene to follow, I had to pick her up with the other arm.

While making our way through the stacks of books, my son was pushing away from me and yelling “Put me down! I want the alphabet book!” Other customers saw us coming and graciously parted like the Red Sea. But, the most challenging part of this was the wriggling, screaming, kicking, crying child. It was quite awkward and difficult to carry both kids with a bag over my shoulder. Fortunately, I had finished my coffee or I would have had to risk leaving it behind again.

I also found myself repeating the same words, “We aren’t buying a book today.” I have found that fatherhood involves a lot of repeating oneself too. Many fathers before me have experienced this and jokes about pre-recordings and signs printed with common dad quotes are not new. However, I really wish that my mouth had a repeat button that required little or no energy from the brain after the first issuance of a dad ruling.

I finally got the kids in the car and drove home. I have since developed this concept of the Toddler Handles. As I mentioned, the grips would be sturdy and comfortable for those long journeys through the IKEA, CostCo, or Disney World. Carrying two children by handles would be much more comfortable for the arms and a shoulder bag would be trivial.  Lowering the center-of-misbehavity offers the upper body much more flexibility and the agility required to make a quick exit.

The kicking legs and swinging arms might still be an issue, so these handles should have Spiderman-like retractable netting that could blanket the child and their limbs before pulling them inwards and closer to the aforementioned center-of-misbehavity.

The handles would also be large enough to accommodate a small digital sound system. A series of push buttons would activate manufacturer-installed pre-recordings that would include:
“We are not buying that today,”
“If you don’t start cooperating, you’ll have a timeout,” and
“If you keep doing that, I’ll take away the kitchen knife.”

For the nostalgic, pre-recorded classics might include:
"What? Do I look like I am made of money?,"
"I'll wash your mouth out with soap," and
"If you don't behave, I'll take you back to the Sears Surplus where you came from."

To appease the more PC types and psychologists in the family, you might hear:
"Connect with your inner emotions and release the poisonous naughty child inside of you,"
“Please don’t project your emotions onto me, young man,” or
"A little cognitive reframing would do you some good, mister"

Another button would play a child’s voice with statements such as “Excuse me, please” and “Thank you” that would be most helpful while exiting a store.

Needless to say, Toddler Handles would make millions. This new product, which will be advertised as the solution to getting a handle on the situation (“Get a grip!"), would also include a built-in IPod for when you simply need to tune in to tune out.