Mum On A Roll: a fortnightly column by Sujatha Rajagopal

Sujatha Rajagopal, work-at-home-mum to 4-year-old Ajay, laments playground tantrums and stresses that with kids, it always pays to be prepared.

I’ve yet to meet a child who has a love affair with playgrounds like Ajay does. Give him a couple of rope ladders, spiralling slides, rocking playground animals and he’s a goner.

Almost all kids love playgrounds, I know. But with Ajay, the delight at visiting one is so utterly palpable. His eyes light up like blinkers and his fingers literally itch to cover the firm, cold steel of a ladder rung. Throw in a sandy floor and I could have three glorious hours—if I wished it—of complete peace, before he becomes restless again.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. My love for playgrounds was very strong as a child. I still miss feeling the seat of a swing beneath me and wish that wherever there is a child-sized playground, there could also be an adult one. The playground bug must have bitten me so hard that it has left its mark on Ajay’s DNA.

Anyway, blessing or curse I don’t know, we’ve discovered that there isn’t one, but two glorious playgrounds close to where we live. And both have sandy floors!

So we traipsed down to one of them the other day, Ajay hopping all the way with glee. It had been quite a while since Ajay’s last playground visit. For some reason or other—weather, lack of time, distance, the usual suspects (grin!)—we hadn’t visited a playground for almost six months. And so, Ajay was clearly ecstatic that I had consented to taking the longer than usual walk to the new playground we’d just heard about.

Once we were there, Ajay lost no time getting himself acquainted with the various tunnels and slides and rope ladders and steel climbing posts. There were about a handful of kids and parents at first and every few minutes, more kids and parents were streaming in from the surrounding apartments.

The playground was simply super and all went well. Until it was time to leave. Unfortunately, I had forgotten one very important thing. Ajay didn’t like leaving playgrounds. And he could be very loud about it.

Since I was in a bit of a hurry to get home, I went up to him and announced, “Come on Ajay, time to go back!” forgetting altogether about the uproar he was going to make.

Ajay immediately launched into protest mode, an initial whine increasing slowly and steadily into a full-fledged cry. “No! No, I’m not going home!” he wailed, “I want to play some more!”

Of course, by now, we had become the centre of attention. Most of the kids and almost all the parents were looking on, amused or horrified, I couldn’t be sure.

Not wanting to create a bigger scene and not wanting to back off either, I said, “OK we will stay for five more minutes, that’s all,” to which Ajay retorted, “not five minutes, ninety-nine minutes okay?”

That immediately diffused the situation, with a few of the parents laughing out loud. I smiled, but still a little bristled at Ajay’s public outburst, I grabbed his sandy hands before he could protest anymore and headed towards a water faucet to wash them, Ajay sobbing away behind. All the way home, he sobbed, wailed, argued about his rights, pleaded, and sobbed some more. Only after suggesting to him that we could draw a map of the route to the playground when we got home, did he calm down. Five minutes later he was his usual cheery self again.

This definitely thought me one huge lesson: not to ever jump a let’s go home statement out of the blue on my son. And to plan several steps ahead before bringing him somewhere he might not want to leave, such as the playground, a play date or even the grocery store.

The afternoon after the playground incident, Ajay and I discussed the playground route together and drew out our map.

I also decided to get wiser and put together the following anti-tantrum strategy:

1. Protocol primer. Before we set off, Ajay gets a firm reminder about proper playground etiquette, such as taking turns to use the slide, being gentle with younger kids in his way, and returning any toys he finds in the playground to the owner.
2. Ample warning. Just before I open our front door, Ajay gets an eye-to-eye talk about following instructions and being mindful of how I feel when he throws a tantrum. Since he is learning to tell time I also show him my watch so that he knows what time we will reach the playground, how long he gets to play in it and at what time we should be home. When we reach the playground, he gets another eye-to-eye reminder.
3. A prelude to the farewell. Tem minutes before we leave, I once again remind him about our deal. Although he still protests, it is nowhere close in volume and severity to his earlier outburst.
4. Something to look forward to. I also hint before we leave, about the availability of something I know Ajay will love to come home to, such as a ripe, red apple or chocolate milk for tea or doing a word seek puzzle together. As long as it is a healthy bribe, I feel no guilt (wink!). 
5. The map. The map we drew has probably been one of the best solutions because not only do Ajay and I use it to find our “adventure trail” to the playground, but also to “find” our way back home! Perfect!  
   

Watching Ajay eating his apple, I shake my head at my folly. I should have thought of these things sooner though I doubt they would have worked when he used to throw his eardrum-shattering toddler tantrums a few years ago. What’s certain is that public tantrums, ugly and frustrating though they are, do get easier to handle as kids grow older. For now, at least till Ajay gets wiser, I have just the strategy to thwart some of them!