A couple of weeks ago, we went on the u-bahn together to visit a friend. I avoid the trains here and only went because Gene was there to help – if something is on that I need to catch the train for – I simply don’t go.
I’ve gotten to know this suburb quite intimately.
Back to the u-bahn trip, we left our friends house because Anja was tired and we needed to get her to sleep. But she’s not used to the train. Consequently a tantrum began that started at the beginning of the train journey and didn’t stop until the end – until we had finished our journey, climbed up all the steps and back to the streets.
Poor pickle had exhausted herself.
I don’t have a degree in psychology, but I wish I did. Maybe I would understand behavior more. Maybe I’d know the right thing to do. Because a lot of the time I am making everything up, I don’t know what the right thing is to do and sometimes I just let her scream..
( In this particular instance, I just drew the pram .. )
A friend said to me the other day that people react to a child screaming in public as if it is just another noise to turn off – too true.
Sometimes I feel that we do not understand our children and do not understand each other.
We are a series of noises, inconveniences and consequences – and that is all.