Meltdowns and how to deal with them

I'm going to start with the TL; DR here.
Mind your own damn business.

It is that simple. If someone else's child is having a tantrum, or a meltdown, and they are not in imminent danger from, say, an oncoming train or tsunami, then back the hell off.

I promise you that the person dealing with the meltdown has a better idea of what to do about it than you.

With the best of intentions, it is unlikely that you will be able to help.

If your intention is merely to make a funny, funny joke along the lines of 'Uh oh, uh oh! That's not good, ha ha ha!' then perhaps you should take up some sort of hobby, as it would appear you have too much time on your hands.

Forcing a parent who is dealing with an overwhelmed, panicked toddler to actually acknowledge your hilarious remarks is not just rude, but utterly stupid.

The person dealing with a scenario you'd rather not find yourself in does not owe you an explanation.

So to the 'hilarious' man who encountered us at a low point this afternoon:
I could have told you that he'd had an amazing start to preschool today.
I could have told you that just being in a noisy environment is like running a marathon for him.
I could have told you that he desperately needed sleep.
I could have told you that if I let him go, he'd have run into traffic simply because that was the direction he was facing.

But it was none of your business. Instead, your amusing little interruption, a moment's distraction, earned me a rather painful bite on the back of my neck. So thanks for that, funny man.

What's really funny is that people like you are never around to see how his body relaxed instantly after I wrestled him into the sling. You weren't around when a newly calmed little boy inspected my scratches and tooth marks half way home and said sorry. And if you're lucky, you will never truly understand what it is like to be so utterly overwhelmed by your senses that you simply cannot cope.

But understand this - it was none of your damn business.
Next time, back off.

A Day in the Life, one year later

Wake up. Time for milk and snuggles. Yay!

The Girl comes in and climbs into our bed too. Get a hug. I have to share the Mammy and the Daddy with her now, but she makes me laugh so it's ok.

Show everyone the sore things in my mouth. They're pointy. Get a hug.

The Mammy brings me to The Boy's bed. His eyes are closed so I poke him in the face. Yay - he's awake! Get a hug.

The Daddy gets me dressed for the day. I tell him all about my sleep. 'Dada dada DA! NNN. Ha ha ha. Buh buh buh.' Get a hug.

The Mammy puts my ears in. Get a hug.

Sit on floor and bang my drum. It goes BOOM BOOM BOOM. I like my drum.

Eat breakfast. It's yummy. I like my breakfast.

Try to eat The Boy. He laughs. Throw the ball. He catches it.

The Mammy shows me Mirror Boy. He is THE BEST. I wave at him. He waves too.

I show him my blue ball. He has a blue ball as well! I laugh. He laughs as well. That makes me laugh. That makes him laugh as well. I think Mirror Boy is my best friend.

Time for milk and snuggles. Sleepy. ZZZZzzzz

NOT sleepy anymore. Get a hug.

Eat some broccoli. I like broccoli.

Try to reach things that are up high. Empty some bags and boxes.

The Girl tells me 'Be CAREful Baby!'. Try to eat The Girl. Get a hug.

Do some crawling and find some floor dirt to eat. Yay!

I'll tell The Mammy all about it 'Mama, buh buh BUH! Da da. Nye nye nye.' The Mammy takes my floor dirt. Not yay.

Time for milk and snuggles.

Play with my drum while The Boy and The Girl sing songs. Eat a book.

Climb up The Daddy's leg. Get a hug.

Tickle time! The Daddy is very funny.

The sore things in my mouth are hurting. Chew on chair. Doesn't help. Think I'll find The Mammy for milk and snuggles.

Crawl into hallway and shout at red door. I like the red door.

Start to get sleepy. The Mammy finds my 'jamas.

Help The Mammy and The Daddy to read books to The Boy and The Girl. Try to eat The Boy and The Girl.

The Mammy puts away my ears. Time for milk and snuggles.

ZZZZZzzzzzz

Love and the sound of silence

90% of my parenting is done through the medium of song. I like to start 'em young. Based on a gut feeling, I sang Beautiful Boy to Little Man from 16 weeks into the pregnancy. When he was a colicky little baby, Hubby and I could always rely on a song to soothe him in the end.
Little Lady's 'Bump Song' was Moon River and I continued to sing it each night as I rocked her to sleep - until, that is, she began to sing it back to me aged just two. I've made up songs about princesses, knights, teething, earthworms, buzzy bees and how long it takes to warm up a bottle. I use these songs, and many more, to soothe, to entertain and to explain.
So far, it's served us pretty well. The kids make up their own songs now - admittedly sometimes about what they're doing on the toilet - and I've even had a four-minute argument about getting out of the bath with Little Lady, entirely through melody. I love that this house sometimes feels like the set of a musical, and that the kids love it too (although poor Hubby ranges from amused to confused). I like to think that when they grow up, they'll have memories like I do - of singing along to 4 Non Blondes with my three siblings in the back of a Fiat Derby, or me and my Dad trying to hit the high notes with Diana Ross on our way to get my braces tightened.
 In short, singing is a huge part of our daily family life. So I'm sure you can imagine our shock when we were told that Little One hasn't heard any of it. Our little cutie is moderately hearing impaired. 
Introduced only in the last 12 months,  Ireland's maternity hospitals are now performing newborn hearing screening. Failing this initial test at 24 hours of age is no real cause for alarm - day old babies are most often quite congested, which interferes with their hearing function temporarily. Even after failing a second hearing test, it never occurred to us to worry. It was only through listening to the two audiologists (the lovely Martin & David) as they recorded Little One's auditory centre responses - or lack thereof - at his  third screening, that I realised something was amiss.  After two more afternoons of intensive testing, we have a very clear picture of his hearing ability - all the better to address it properly with the early intervention that these diagnostic tests allow.
 So the road ahead is a little different for our family than we initially expected. Little One will have his first hearing aids fitted next week, then we'll begin the task of teaching him to listen, and to help develop the auditory pathways in his brain which are so far neglected. To help him develop speech, we'll all have to work on speaking clearly while face-to-face - something that doesn't always happen in a busy household like ours.
I won't deny that a few little tears have been shed, feeling foolish while reading Roald Dahl or dancing beside the kitchen radio. But whatever way you look at it, we are very lucky.  Our little boy is healthy. He has received audiological care on an 'emergency' basis thanks to the new screening and early intervention guidelines. We will get information and support in how best to help him learn the things that other kids seem to pick up by osmosis, and there is no reason that he can't attend a mainstream Creche and school.  
 Life is good. We will all learn together the best ways of teaching, playing and interacting with Little One - in much the same way that we have adapted our parenting to suit Little Man and Little Lady's different personalities. The one thing that won't change is the fierceness and depth of the love every member of this family shares. Oh, and the excessive singing. Sorry Hubby!

A Day in the Life, of a Newborn

So you guys know how it is, right?
One day you find a nice lady, and you decide to make her your home. You even come up with a sort of a pet name for her - Home Lady. Everything's going swimmingly!

And then one day you wake up, and the walls are closing in on you. Like, actually physically closing in on you.
Hey, Home Lady, knock it off! Please? Look, I'll stop playing my music so loud. And I won't put any more posters on the walls, honest.
But she insists on going through with it, and next thing you know the world is a bright, noisy, cold place! Luckily, you've been clever enough to let out some rope behind you so you can find your way back, but the Big People have spotted it and they actually cut it right there in front of you! You make a note to add it to your list of complaints should you be able to find a supervisor.

And you know what, the next 24 hours are not gonna be easy either.
First, one of the Big People puts these things with writing round each of your arms and legs. Then, every time you fall asleep, they wake you up to see if they're still there and still say the same thing. Really? You think maybe they fell off while I was rock-climbing and I just asked the nearest counterfeiter to hook me up? Unlikely.

We are not even gonna talk about how it feels to basically have tar come out of your butt. Just, no.

Later, while you're just lying around looking at everything within 10 inches, the thing in the middle of your face explodes!! Yes, it explodes. The aftershocks run through your whole body and you're sure the Big People will finally step in and help.
Alas, no. Even Home Lady just smiles and says 'cute'. What the-? She's taking a picture? My face just damn near fell off and she thinks it's a Kodak moment? You've changed Home Lady... :(

Oh here comes another Big People. I wonder what she wants? She's taking my socks off while saying nice things to me. Weird, but whatever. What's that? She's putting something in my mouth, it's so sweet and tasty. I LIKE this Big People. She's super- OH MY GOD SHE STABBED ME IN THE FOOT!! OUCH! Now she's trying to make it better by squeezing it. You're just making it worse you amateur, bring me back to Home Lady or else!

There is no way I'm staying in this weird place. I had a good thing going all by myself - I don't need any of you Big People around so just leave me alone.

Oh hello again, Home Lady. Oh a snuggle. That's better. And she's singing that song about the rain falling like a memory. Makes no sense to me, but I still like it. She smells kinda sweet and warm actually. And she's soft and squishy. And I really like when we get to hold our cheeks together and she rubs my back.

Well, ok, maybe I'll give this *yawn* place another chance. Maybe it'll all be ok in the... Zzzzzz