Tax-Free May Mean Child Free

This morning I accidentally went to Target. Which is not to say that I didn’t mean to go to Target. The accidental part was not realizing that today is the first day of the annual “tax-free weekend” here in Texas. I would say that it was a zoo, but zoos, in my experience, keep their wild animals safely behind bars. Not so the crowd at Target. The place was jammed with frazzled mothers, each towing at least half a dozen children.

Some people love shopping. They thrive in situations like this, planning all year for the opportunity to shop on tax-free weekend, the insane day after Thanksgiving, and that horror of horrors, December 26th. Not me. The day I discovered that you could order things online was the day I thanked God I would never have to set foot in a mall again.

I have many reasons to hate shopping, but first and foremost is the fact that I hate crowds. I like people; I like groups of people; I even occasionally like large gatherings of people. But crowds, and especially crowds of strangers (and especially if half of those strangers are screaming at the other half, a la Target this morning) send me running for a dark quiet corner.

I am, and always have been, what they call “highly sensitive.” This does not mean that I burst into tears at the slightest criticism or go around all in black quoting beat poets. It just means that I have a kind of antennae that is always reading the world, particularly the people, around me. It’s not a super power or anything, and it is not especially useful most of the time. Knowing that the woman two aisles over is sad about something doesn’t do much but make me wonder what she is sad about. It does help a great deal in my interactions with children, but other than that it’s just the way I’m wired. Most days, it’s a neutral or positive trait. But in a crowd, the sheer amount of data coming through the antennae is exhausting.

What does this have to do with anything? Well, kids from hard places have a similar sensitivity, though to a much greater degree. It’s hyper awareness, sometimes called hyper vigilance. They are actively, fiercely reading the world at all times. Early trauma, abuse, or neglect wired their brains to be on constant alert. Their survival depended on it, and even if it doesn’t any longer because they’ve been adopted into safe, loving homes, the brain’s wiring remains set to alert mode. One of the TA’s at the TBRI training told how his son, now grown, still warns him about potentially dangerous details on the freeway. Not things like “there’s a stalled 18 wheeler up ahead.” His son will say “there’s a car with a wobbly tire four lanes over.” Or if you’ve ever seen the TV show “Lie to Me,” one of the characters, Ria Torres, is a ‘natural’ at reading people—she knows instinctively what it took the show’s main scientist decades to learn. She knows it because of childhood abuse—reading her abuser’s emotions at all times helped her avoid his rage and survive.

Honestly, it’s amazing that the brain can adapt like this to ensure our survival. But it makes things like a crowded store a minefield for a child from a hard place. It is tiring enough for them to read their immediate family all the time. Hyper vigilance in a store full of stressed, angry, competitive people is like a marathon. And we all know that exhausted children don’t calmly curl up for a nap. They explode.

So don’t take your child to the store if you know it’ll be crowded, and be willing to leave if the place is packed. Don’t go to the grocery store during peak hours or when you’re in a rush. Don’t go anywhere hungry or dehydrated or right after school. If you see four school buses parked outside the children’s museum, drive on by and go a different day.

If you are fostering, adopting, or have bio kids who are sensitive to crowds or noise, or even if you just don’t want to fight with your child over which cereal you are buying, delegate shopping trips whenever possible. If you’re married, send your spouse to the store with a list, or have him or her keep the kids while you go. Or send a friend with a list and some cash. I know plenty of people who would never agree to babysit, but who would love to grab a few things for a friend at Target. You could even set up an exchange with another parent: you keep the kids while he/she shops and vice versa.

And if you’re worried your child will reach eighteen and never have been in a grocery store, why not go on a dry run sometime? Pick a slow time of day (you can even call the store and ask them when their slower times are) and go into the store without buying anything. Walk all through it, letting your child lead the way, and just explore. This can be a great way of introducing the child to the experience without overwhelming him/her and without the added pressure of buying things.

Just don’t do it on tax-free weekend. =)