Anatomy of a Meltdown

Saturday Morning:

Sumie had already left for the hospital, this being a call weekend, and both kids, uncharacteristically, snoozed until about 8:30. "There's hope," I thought. "I might just make it through this."

I was taking Mimi and Kuri to a birthday party at Pump It Up, a bouncy house gym in South San Francisco, and we had to be there by 10:30. Of course, 10:30 is Kuri's normal nap time, but with both kids sleeping in, there was a chance I might just get away with missing it. I was feeling confident as we prepared for the outing. "Right now I feel I can take on this whole birthday party myself!" But much like Dak, the short-lived gunner from "The Empire Strikes Back," my confidence was but an ironic prelude for what was to come.

Breaksfast, diaper changes, and even getting dressed went well. The only minor hang-up was Kuri's unique take on fashion.  Perhaps you can spot it.

Michael Jackson was known for wearing one white glove covered in rhinestones. Kuri insists on one yellow boot, covered in buses and taxis.

Two bridges and three freeways after departing home, we arrived at Pump It Up, just one minute late. We signed our release forms and entered the first party room. Kuri was a bit overwhelmed, but soon found a ball and all was well. He'd make it through the next two hours with this same ball. He has quite the death grip for an 18 month old.

Mimi made for the giant slide and was soon barreling down at breakneck speed.

 She even kept up with the boys.

Kuri was a bit intimated by the slide itself, but he loved falling over on the crash pad beneath it.

Kuri and I tried out one of the quieter bouncy houses, which resulted in some smiles from my normally cautious little boy.

By the end of our session in the first room, Kuri and Mimi were doing great. I was a little worn from hefting a toddler around - even up and down the big slide a few times - but definitely hanging in there. As we entered the second room, I was still feeling confident. "The kids really are holding up," I thought. "This is pretty amazing. Rather proud of them today." Well, as we all know, pride comes before a fall.

In the second room was a new collection of bouncy houses. Kuri was not a fan of any of these, unfortunately.

He ran around the floor instead, still clutching his ball, and giggling he head off. Eventually, even this began to wear thin. He needed something to bring the experience up a notch, to push it over the cliff, to take it to 11.

As you have probably guessed, what he needed was another ball.

In the new room, Mimi was addicted to the climbing house. She had set herself a mission of placing her yellow flag at the very top of the tower. Sadly, she could only ever make it about 1/3 the way up.

This caused a bit of frustration. There weren't any tears, but that lower lip of Mimi's was beginning to extend into pout mode. My confidence was still high, but I was noticing a few chinks in the armor. By the end of the session, Mimi and Kuri were still smiling...

...but Kuri was getting introspective...

 ...and Mimi was also a bit more contemplative than I would've liked.

Still, as we entered the party room for pizza, presents, and cake, I thought we'd be able to make it. They both love pizza and I was armed with apple sauce, milk, and other snacks. We had half an hour to get through. They could do it.

I wish there were pictures to document the last half hour of the party, but much like for the evacuees from Three Mile Island and Chernobyl, taking pictures really wasn't a priority.

In the post-crisis debriefing I held with Sumie later that night, I think I finally pieced together how it happened. The party room held two long tables, one for kids and the other for adults. At the head of the kids' table was a giant inflatable throne with the birthday girl perched on top. I didn't realize it then, but I think that's what initially triggered the eventual meltdown. Mimi wants what Mimi wants, even if what she wants is the birthday girl's, and not hers. Mimi decided to protest the unfair throne occupation by refusing to sit at the kids table.

I poked, prodded, and encouraged her to sit with her friends, but to no avail. After five minutes, I sat down with Mimi and Kuri at the adult table. They both nibbled on their pizza, Kuri in his stroller and Mimi beside me at the table. I eventually stood up to get another slice, and that's when Kuri began to wail. Papa was not allowed to be out of sight. Papa was also not allowed to carry him. He had decided that he needed to be out of the stroller, on the ground, in a tiny room filled with 40 people. As I chased him around, Mimi grew more sour, but was still keeping her cool. And then came the balloons...

Mimi had her eye on a mylar one with a yellow flower on it. But because she wasn't sitting with the kids, someone else snagged it first. This was the core breach for Mimi. She'd had enough and could take no more. Massive tears streamed down her face and he chest began to heave in sorrow. No regular balloon, though many were offered, would do. She wasn't even jealous enough of her brother to ask for one after I tied a red balloon to Kuri's wrist.

As Mimi sobbed inconsolably over ice cream cake at the table, with me attempting to get her back on track, Kuri decided to tear into the garbage. I called out, "No, Kuri! Come back here." And that, of course, was when Kuri lost it. He began to screech - violently protesting the crowded room, the lack of a nap, and the unfair denial of access to garbage. I bundled Kuri into the stroller, picked up Mimi - who was by then dry-heaving sorrow - and made my ignominious exit.

Sumie and I had a very serious talk with Mimi that night. She knew she was in big trouble on the way home in the car, but I think she was surprised to find that Mama, who hadn't even been at the birthday party, was upset as well. Of course, Sumie and I both know that tantrums happen, but this one really bothered us. Mimi even refused to say goodbye to her friend when we left. That is simply unacceptable.

To be fair, though, even before our talk with her, Mimi attempted to make amends. As soon as we got home, she began drawing pictures and "I love you!" cards for her friend. I think she'd realized that she'd messed up, and that is, at least, a step in the right direction.

By the end of the afternoon, life was pretty much back to normal. Kuri got a little rest and quickly traded his squalling for a pair of sunglasses and a smile...

...and Mimi returned to her normal, caring self. She looked after her little brother that evening, never even showing a hint of jealousy that Kuri made it out of the party with a balloon and she didn't. That's the girl I know.

Saturday's meltdown definitely wasn't the first and I'm sure it won't be the last. I am hoping, though, that it was a step forward for Mimi. She still has a long way to go, but she has a good heart, and it always seems to win through in the end.

Mouth of Sand, Walk of Shame

Toddlers fall over.  It's what they do.  It's their past-time, passion, and preferred method of getting to the floor quickly.  When an adult, running full speed, falls flat on his face, people cringe.  When a toddler does it, they laugh. 

Mimi, like all girls her age, falls over constantly.  90% of the time she picks herself up, dusts herself off, and continues on her way.  But every once in a while, when she gets a little hurt or a little scared, she lets her displeasure known.  And when Mimi's displeased, she makes sure that everyone within a 10 block radius knows it.  She's quite adept at getting her point across, but this, unfortunately, comes with unintended consequences.  Passersby tend to feel sympathy for the screamer, but very little affection for the screamer's keeper. 

As a man walking the streets of San Francisco alone with a baby, I can't help but feel I'm constantly being evaluated.  Yes, men have been emancipated to a certain degree when it comes to child care, but our abilities are still very much, believe me, in question.  When Mimi is in cute mode, kicking back in her stroller and saying "Hi!" to every dog she sees, I'm a champion father.  When she's kicking and screaming, I get looks that seem to say, "Shouldn't you be locked away awaiting your war crimes trial?"  And when Mimi takes a small tumble at the park - me being the only man surrounded by mothers - I may as well be the bastard child of Stalin and Joan Rivers.  

Our trip to the park did not begin well.  We stopped by the coffee shop to say "Hi" to Mama, who had left the house to study in peace.  2 minutes into our visit Mimi decided that she wanted to "borrow" the reading materials from everyone in the shop.  This did not go over well, so I packed her back into the stroller and set out for the park.  As Mimi wailed, I walked out the door, my head held low.  Half-way down the block a woman stopped in her tracks and simply stared at Mimi, slowly pivoting, and then shaking, her head as we ambled past.  Mimi screamed her way to the park, exchanging shouts of anger for squeals of joy once the playground equipment came into view. 

Once there, Mimi played quite well.  She started off with the slides and, of course, a few trips through the yellow tunnel. 

Then it came time for playing in the sand.  I brought out her bucket and shovels and she set to work.  Before long she had been joined by two additional playmates, one three year old and one 15 month old.  After a while she was even beginning to share some of the sand toys.  Not the ones she brought, of course, but at least she wasn't hoarding.

The outing was going well.  I'm still a bit shy when it comes to talking to other parents (I'm a bit of an introvert and not that good at small talk), but this time I was actually having good conversations with several of the parents.  I was feeling comfortable, confident.  Maybe I could be seen as a good parent, despite my gender handicap.  And that's when Mimi decided to take a tumble.

Mimi had climbed out of the sandpit, which has a six inch ledge, and then decided that she wanted to get back in, only this time riding the scooter of one of her playmates.  I managed to stop her the first 6 times, but on her seventh attempt, she succeeded.  Baby and scooter tumbled into the sandpit.

The tumble was minor, she'd been though far worse without complaint, but it must have scared the dickens out of her.  Sand in her mouth and tears in her eyes, Mimi let forth a shriek - one cannot even classify it as a mere shout, scream, or cry - that was picked up on seismological equipment as far as Malaysia. 

The mothers there with me, rather than being judgmental, were actually very helpful and kind.  They even congratulated me for calming her down so quickly (I had to use milk).  But, as I left the park, I couldn't help but feel I'd let all the other stay-at-home dads here in San Francisco, and across the country, down.  That's why, despite the embarrassment, I had to blog about it. 

One of my biggest challenges with being a stay-at-home dad has been a constant anxiety of being judged.  Part of this, I think, comes from me wanting to prove that men can do this parenting thing just as well as women, but I think it also stems from my own insecurity when it comes to doing right by Mimi.  It's not that I want to assuage her every frustration or protect her from every danger - she'll never really learn to be independent that way - I just want to guide her the best I can so that she can continue to walk her own path.  And not scream too much along the way!

Chance of Rain: 30%; Chance of Meltdown: 100%

Going out with Mimi is always a gamble.  No matter how much milk we take or how many toys we pack, she will eventually have a meltdown.  It's just a matter of time.  We've gotten to the point now that we usually reach home, or at least the car, before the histrionics begin.  But there are times when Mimi just simply loses it and cannot be consoled.  And so, each trip out, no matter how exciting the prospects, begins with a slight sense of trepidation.  Will we get through the event without mishap?  Will I be able to navigate the streets of San Francisco, which I'm still learning, in peace, or accompanied by piercing screams?  Will the strangers we pass think of me as a calm and collected father or as a man so incompetent when it comes to parenting that even sea monkeys should be spared from my care?  Will the outing end with a smile on my face or tear and saliva stains on my shirt?

As you may have guessed, we tend to choose our outings carefully.  Last weekend the Farmers' Market at the Ferry Building seemed like a safe bet.  And, thankfully, it was a welcome and wonderful outing. 

We arrived at the market early.  Well, early for us.  Getting anywhere with Mimi by 10:00 in the AM is quite an accomplishment.  Fresh fruit and vegetable stands surrounded the renovated ferry building, along with a number of food venders, each with a considerable line.  We browsed through the stalls with Mimi in her stroller.  The serene shopping lasted a good 15 minutes.

When Mimi began to squirm and moan Sumie pulled her out and, instead of carrying her, allowed her to toddle alongside the stroller for the first time.  We were amazed.  What a walker she turned out to be!  This allowed us to head over to the Golden Gate Meat Company to get some pastrami.  A quick note on this pastrami: on "Yelp" it is voted as one of the city's best, but that's just not the case.  It is delicious, but it tastes far more like smoked brisket than pastrami.  If you're wanting pastrami, this isn't it.  Ok, back to the story...

With "pastrami" and breakfast sandwiches in hand, we headed out to the benches overlooking the bay.  Mimi ate standing up - her preferred eating position when we're out - and quickly polished off half the breakfast sandwich.  Full, she decided to befriend a little Japanese girl sitting next to us.  They didn't talk much, but they did seem to like each others' shoes.  Just before we went back into the market a kindly man offered to take a picture of us.

The fruits and vegetables at the farmers' market are amazing, but by no means cheap.  Don't even pretend to think you're going to get a deal here.

The standout item of the day, which was also a bit pricey, was a natural soda carbonated by lactic fermentation.  Very cool and very tasty.  Even Mimi enjoyed it, though half the soda ended up on her shirt.

We returned home without incident.  Overall, an great day out.  Short, but much appreciated.  I'm hoping that once Mimi gets a bit better at communicating we'll be able to take some longer trips.  But until then, we're sticking to 3 hours or less!