Daughter's meltdown style has been more of a throw yourself on the floor, scream, pound your fists and hold your breath till you turn blue approach. Much to the dismay of the other Target shoppers, I pretty much ignore her. I browse so casually beside her flopping form that people start to wonder where the girl's mother is.
But something about the way son melts down just messes with my brainwaves. He cries and wails and moans and it gets to me so much my personality fractures and argues with itself;
Motherly Concern: Your boy is crying! He must need sustenance or medical care!
Anxiety: For crike's sake hurry hurry and help him before you land in the ER!
Logic: He's fine, relax.
Guilt: Wow, you must be a bad mom - clearly he feels that he has no stability or he wouldn't melt down like that.
Primary Self: What? Wait? What the heck was I just doing? Why is my brain buzzing like this?