Ishu can’t quite distinguish between what is considered the “museum” and what is considered the “gift shop” of the museum. Lately, he likes roaming the gift shop. And that’s typically fine. I always trail him to make sure that he puts things back where they belong and doesn’t break anything that he touches.

But, he became endlessly fascinated with this motorized toy car that goes in circles. And he wanted to take it OUT of the store and up the stairs to the actual museum.

I knelt down and tried to explain the difference between the store and the museum. It didn’t penetrate. He kept screaming, “THIS IS THE MOOSEUM!”

When he started running away from the store, I had to pull the toy out of his hand and place it back on the display.

Begin tantrum.

He kept running back toward it, trying to climb onto the shelf. When I picked him up and placed him back on the ground, he melted into it and started screaming. When I tried to pick him up to calm him down, he began flailing in my arms and screaming.

I managed to carry him into a family bathroom and set him down, still screaming.

I took a deep breath and glanced at my face in the mirror. Beet red and dripping sweat.

I took another deep breath through the screaming and anger, feeling my heart beating so hard.

I began whispering. Lowering my voice has always helped in moments like these. If anything, he stops screaming long enough to hear what I’m trying to say.

“You want to keep playing with the car. We can go back in the store, Isha. Let’s calm down here first.”

The screaming started again.

“Let’s take a deep breath and when we are calm, we can go back, ” I continued.

“ISHU CAN CAI IN THE MOOSEUM (Ishu can cry in the museum),” he screamed.

I couldn’t help it. I smiled because isn’t that exactly what we’ve been trying to teach him all along? He CAN cry. He CAN feel comfortable about crying. Cry wherever the heck you want, little man.

“You CAN cry in the museum, you’re right. But let’s calm our bodies down and then we will go back,” I said as he continued to thrash in my arms. “Mama needs to calm down too.”

He stopped to look at my face.

As if those exact words were the perfect key to unlock the calm.

It was almost as if I could read his face saying, “What? I’m not alone in this? You’ve got to deal with your shit too?”

Eventually, we (both) got through it. We calmed down long enough to go back to the store, look at a few more items and then make our way up to the actual museum for a bit. Yes, without the toy car. He willingly handed that to me and asked me to put it back for him.

Like a completely different, completely regulated child.

This wasn’t the only public tantrum of the day. There was another one at Target later that evening.

It used to be that we’d get one every couple of days, but they’re becoming more frequent and I’m starting to understand why the phrase “terrible twos” exists. Ha.

I know he’s not terrible. I know he’s a little toddler trying to create his own little identity and trying to communicate things he doesn’t quite understand yet. But, yeah, the ‘terrible twos’ thing totally makes sense.

I GET IT NOW.

As for today? We’ve got a busy schedule. Between Ishu’s pre-school prep class, a trip to the park with Max and Jenn, and a stop at the farmer’s market, I’m just bracing myself for some more of these fun episodes.

All I can do is hold on tight, remind myself that this is normal, and get through it the best we can.

And maybe every once in a while, let him (and myself) know that Mama needs to calm down too.

We got this.