So I have a toddler now.

We’re just finishing with potty training, dressing up independently and we’re working on cleaning up after we play. 

I feel like the cleaning up/after him; might go way longer than the toddler phase; but yah, toddler reality – I know.

If I share with you a recent tantrum I’ve recently witnessed; naturally, you will think of a child. Mine maybe?

Come again.

This week, the fresh crisp air surrounds our northern spaces.

You need a jacket to step outside, seasons our switching, it’s dark early.

Last Wednesday, I went out to dinner with a friend: a beautiful grown woman. 

She’s resourceful, she’s a good worker, an honest person and a very generous one — I might add.

She has this amazing demeanor about her. Everyone loves her.

She’s super friendly with everybody, her smile is infectious and her laugh is sincere and comforting. 

She’s good peeps.

This Pho neighborhood spot has great soup, decent service and we’ve both been there countless times before. So there we are, again.

I order a chicken Pho soup with a spring roll. Combo #1

-”What do you feel like eating?” I ask her.

She explains that to keep it simple, she will order a bigger portion and bring the leftovers at work/tomorrow’s lunch.

I like that idea.

So we’re sitting and eating, discussing and drinking. 

Until we’re done.

We ask the waitress for a container to go. The quantity left in her plate is just enough, it’s a nice lunch portion.

We get up and head to the cashier to pay for our meals.

I pay first and I go stand beside the exit door.

I look out at the street view: cars passing by, people walking and adjacent boutiques. 

I notice a couple wearing matching coats and holding hands. 

It sounds mad corny, but the coats are cool. His and her version, his and her love wear.

I like it.

I pull out my phone to see what time it is and answer a text message I received earlier.

Ok.

I’m not sure what’s taking so long so I look back at the cashier area.

My friend comes storming towards the door as she blabs out some indistinct sounds.

Her steps are heavy and angry: she’s agitated.

I’m kinda hesitant about this new energy, completely unaware of what just shifted.

Still unsure, I pull up my hoodie and push the door to follow her.

I pick up the pace to walk beside her as we head to her car.

-”I dropped the food container on the floor! Everything lost! I picked it up with my hands, placed the dirty food back in the box, and put it on a table! F***’ing ridiculous! In front of everybody!”

She goes on to explain that these situations: reoccur way too often.

-”It sounds stupid but a small loss here, food fell there, a parking ticket here: it totals up! I have the worst luck ever! I should just never leave my house: if I’m out — I’m losing something! It’s so unfair and now I have to get over it quick! Go home, clean up and make my lunch for tomorrow. Something else will happen another day. Argghhh! This sucks!”

Ouuuff.

It sure does. 

Sounds like a lot of disappointments: continually registering.

She carries on by saying that she’s a good person and why do these circumstances keep happening? She shares about other tough realities she presently undergoes and explains that she’s completely discouraged. Her rant is multi-layered.

I get it.. I’ve been there.

Seems like a drop, but it has the effect of an immense waterfall.

She drives me home: still angry but apologizing for the “Faux”turn.

Faux at Pho   –     Do two Pho’s make it right?

Trying to make it better, I speak calmly as I try to reassure her. 

-”I’m sorry about your food. I’m sorry you feel like this. Stop apologizing. Please, don’t worry about me! I’ve seen grown tantrums before. Plus, I’ve had my own few!” 

I tell her this while kissing her cheeks, opening the car door and stepping out.

I then walk to my front door, open it, remove my shoes and hang my coat.

A few moments later, I sit in the bathtub with my son. I wash his hair and tickle his feet.

Now, he’s laughing and giggling. 

Earlier today: he was frustrated and angry.

I recall kneeling in front of him.

-”I understand that you are angry but you can use your words. You don’t have to yell, throw things or be rude.”

I remember the times I’ve screamed and cried; the days where I too: felt overwhelmed by a certain turn of events.

Managing our emotions, our thoughts plus our life realities: cumulate in much “in-box” work.

I’m still working on it.

Over the years; I’ve witnessed several adults have different types of tantrums.

Some yell, some cry, some are passive-aggressive and some are plain out: just rude.

With awareness, I know I’ve become better at sorting my feelings and recognizing my involvement.  My last tantrum goes a few years back.

True. Although, I’d be a fool to claim I’ll never tantrum again.

Maybe tantrums are here to stay. We just learn to internalize our outbursts. 

But peaking 0 to 100 – real quick in our “in-box”. I’m unsure if it’s 100% avoidable.

Plus, when we’re elderly:  heart rate variations might be good cardio training.

Sometimes, life is just overload. 

This, that, plus the other small thing that we didn’t even mention. Oh, and that side disturbance too.

A certain chain of events, a lost opportunity or a dropped container can make it all: / tilt.