We had a Big Meltdown this week. It was horrible. It was ugly. It was the Mann Family Chernobyl. And it wasn’t one of the boys that melted, it was Daddy.
All great disasters stem from a perfect storm of collaborating mess-ups. Last week Daddy crushed his finger with a 200 pound boulder. His finger popped like a balloon and Daddy howled in pain while dressing the wound enough to drive himself to the emergency room for his eight stitches. The nanny took sick. Strep throat. No nanny. Then Daddy’s back blew out, leaving Daddy writhing on the floor in pain trying to not tear open his new stitches. Daddy moved to the couch, cane by his side. Daddy was out of action. No nanny. No Daddy. That leaves Mommy against three.
Mommy gets disturbing news from a close friend. Mommy’s upset. An upset Mommy is a sensitive Mommy. A sensitive Mommy is a reactive Mommy. A reactive Mommy needs emotional support from Daddy. Meanwhile, mash-fingered, hunch-backed, cane-carrying Daddy finds out his project proposal was too late to be accepted and he was not going to get the work. Less work means less money. Less money means fearful Daddy. And a fearful Daddy is incapable of emotionally supporting reactive Mommy.
Meanwhile, with three months under their belts, Mommy & Daddy have come to the realization that the triplets are extremely sensitive to their environment. If either Mommy or Daddy are stressed out, the boys will go nuts. If Mommy & Daddy hire a babysitter who has a bad day, they will tear the house apart. If everyone around them is calm and in a good mood, they are a perfect joy. One day a week Mommy & Daddy are fortunate enough to be able to hire a Tibetan babysitter of unbelievable calm. She walks in the door and the boys just settle down and there is hardly a cry the entire time. This is generally true with all kids, but our three are not only very sensitive individuals, they also ramp themselves up as a trio, amplifying the effect.
So … the scene is set. Crushed finger. Blown back. Sick nanny. Upset Mommy. Worried Daddy. Three sensitive kids. Foul moods funneled through three-phase power amplifiers. What do you get? The Big Meltdown.
Even before the actions starts, the boys sense agitation in the air like wolves sense prey. They get excited. Ears back. Eyes alert. The house is tense. They push, and push hard. They climb stuff. They break stuff. Mommy reacts! She yells. She yells way louder than normal. The kids respond. They disperse. Before Mommy can finish yelling about what Nhan did, Tam and Tai have moved onto something else. They’re jumping up and down on the turned-over lamp. The lamp is destroyed. What the hell are you doing!?!?! Crack! The wooden gate breaks. Security breach. Timeout! Timeout! Timeout! All of you are in a timeout! And stay there in a timeout! Mommy herds wolves into the timeout zone, backed into a corner between the couch and the wall. Up against a wall, the wolves fight and claw their way out. Stay! You stay there!
Daddy’s trying to get work done. Not possible. That screaming!!! Daddy’s head is exploding. He thinks Mommy is losing it. He thinks Mommy should get herself under control. More screaming. Daddy gets up. He’s going to go out and help. Daddy’s intention is to suffuse the insufferable chaos with a calming presence. He opens the door.
Daddy opens the door just in time to see Tam take a hard swing at Nhan. Whack! Tam slams Nhan in the head. Nhan screams. What the hell!?!?! You brat! Daddy reacts! It’s timeout for Tam!! Normally Daddy walks a boy to the timeout zone and quietly blocks the exit with a pillow and sets the timer, stay until the beep, please. Today it’s a scene from the movie Alien, where the victim gets chomped and dragged screaming to his doom. This timeout is rough. Too rough to describe here. It’s ugly. Alien Daddy is humiliated at his own behavior. Nhan throws a toy. Crash goes the toy against the window. Damn! “Come here! Nhan! Timeout!” The Alien Daddy drags another screaming victim into the timeout cave. This timeout is also rough. Alien Daddy’s got his angry face two inches from the toddler’s face. Nhan smirks. Alien Daddy wants to take his cane and … well … no need to describe what Alien Daddy wanted to do (but didn’t!). Alien Daddy is again humiliated. Mommy is shocked.
This isn’t helping. Alien Daddy slinks back to his nest. The door closes, but it’s a thin door. Mommy is screaming again. The triplets are off the charts. Sounds come through the door. Unusual sounds. Crunching and rattling sounds. This can’t be good. This can’t be happening. This is a meltdown. You would think that angry Viet Cong soldiers were adopted by the Americans that brought you the Mei Lei massacre.
Just like the movie, Alien Daddy keeps appearing suddenly from his nest to claim a victim. Alien Daddy manhandles. Alien Daddy yanks wolves down from the tree branches of the DVD rack. Thud. Screaming. Mommy keeps saying over and over, “It’s not their fault. It’s not their fault.” Alien Daddies don’t reason. Alien Daddies don’t think. Alien Daddies are pure predation in the name of the rule of law, and in that moment, only Alien Daddy’s instincts are the law. “It’s not their fault”, says Mommy, even as she screams all the louder. When does this end? Where is the door?
It goes on all day. Playtime is hell. Dinner is short and sparse. Bedtime stories occur double-speed. “Night night”. The door closes. The wolves lash out at their den, destroying the last vestiges of the window shades. Exhaustion kicks in. The triplets collapse into sleep. Mommy and Daddy are left to ponder.
Mommy is right. It really isn’t their fault. If Mommy & Daddy are calm, they are calm … er. If Mommy & Daddy are having troubles, then Mommy & Daddy and the triplets are all in trouble. Mommy needs emotional support and a break. Daddy needs some rest. And a substitute nanny must be found.
Daddy gets on craigslist and then gets on the phone. He doesn’t care that it’s nine at night. Daddy limits his thoughts to simple, focused thoughts. “Must find nanny for tomorrow. Must find nanny for tomorrow.” Mommy gives herself a good cry, but in private. East Europeans are tough, but even they need an outlet. The walls are thin. Mommy and Daddy find some time to talk. They talk of humiliation and frustration and anger and upset. They talk of how they want their family to be, and how today wasn’t that. They share. They understand. They are too spent to be anything but still.
Someone calls back. Daddy has found a nanny for tomorrow. She’s warm. She’s sweet. She’s happy to show up. Help is on the way. Mommy will get some support. Daddy will get some rest. Tomorrow will be better.
I’m sorry you guys had such a rough day. I hope today is better.
And I hope your finger and back heal quickly. I can’t imagine…
I do recall those days… you are not alone my friends…
I hope your finger heals quickly.
I recall those meltdown kind of days, hopefully they should be far and few between!
You need to find several back-up nannies that could fill in should your regular nanny get sick again.
I do admire you and Eva and your ability to handle the triplets.
My neighbor used to watch my daughter when she was little along with her three children. I always marveled at her ability to handle four kids ranging in age from 2 1/2 to 5. I remember her telling me that she disciplined by using time out with all the kids. She would have the “offender” sit on the bottom step of her staircase for an allotted amount of time or until they were ready to apologize and play nice. She could see “offender” from all her downstairs rooms, but the “offender” could not see into the other rooms. However, the child in time out could definitely hear all the laughter and giggles coming from the room where the others were playing. She told me the time-out child never reached the required time limit they always apologized and agreed to play nice usually within 2 minutes of the beginning of time out.
Not sure if that would work with your guys but it might be worth a try!
Wally – Maggi McQueen directed me to your blog. What a story! I am glad you all survived. Interesting how you describe your kids feeding off your tension. I trust it will get easier with time. I only had one, so it was sooooo much easier. And every kid is different…
Laurie (one of the Butler twins from Shorecrest)