Meltdowns are rarely socially acceptable, so we often hide them if we can, to avoid criticism.I’m squatting on the floor, squeezed between the antique toilet and the textured wallpaper in the tiny water closet of the Congressional Country Club in Washington, D.C. My evening gown is scattered on the floor around me, and my face is pressed to my knees, which stifle my sobs.I’m wearing sneakers under the dress, as they can grip the old tiles and hold me steady while I shake.
Now I’m terrified something might go wrong at the hotel, and the boys wouldn't know what to do. I was afraid before we left them, when I told them about hotel fire alarms and how to prepare. Put your shoes by the door. Now lie your coats next to them. Now tuck your phones in your shoes.After my next instructions for how to make an outside call, 14 asked,"Um.
After a few minutes, I stop crying and my heart rate slows. Looking up at my husband, I reach up with my hands. He pulls me to my feet, and I feel almost fine.
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