When “No” at Costco Turned Into a Police Threat

When love looks like chaos — Mama Love tries to keep JayJay and JoJo safe during a public meltdown, while judgment from a stranger adds to the pain.

When “No” at Costco Turned Into a Police Threat

Costco is supposed to be a regular weekend stop for groceries — but for moms like me, it can also be a battlefield. A place where everyday parenting turns into a public performance… and sometimes a public crisis.

That day, I was shopping with both JayJay and JoJo in the stroller. As many parents of children with autism know, stores like Costco are full of overstimulating lights, crowds, and — of course — brightly colored toys and impulse items.

As expected, one of the boys saw something he wanted. I said no.

And just like that — the meltdown began.

He screamed so loud it turned heads. His body thrashed and arched. Even with the stroller belt fastened, he tried to throw himself forward. The whole stroller nearly tipped over.

In that moment, I did what any protective mom would do: I held his body back against the seat so he wouldn’t slam his face into the floor. I raised my voice — not in anger, but because I needed him to hear me over the screaming.

“No is no! Calm down! Stop!”

And then…

A stranger approached.

A woman I’ve never seen in my life — someone who saw just a few seconds of chaos and thought she knew the whole story.

She told me I was abusing my child.

She threatened to call the police.

In the middle of all the noise and tears, I stood there completely frozen — overwhelmed, heartbroken, and humiliated. I was not only trying to prevent injury and regulate two overwhelmed children — I was suddenly fighting judgment from someone who didn’t understand at all what was happening.

She didn’t see autism.

She didn’t see love.

She didn’t see a mother trying her absolute best.

She just saw a moment — and made it into a threat.

Since that day, I’ve avoided public places more than I’d like to admit. Not because of my kids — but because of the fear of being judged, misunderstood, and shamed.

Some people will say, “That’s not autism, that’s bad parenting.”

Some will say I’m too weak or too soft.

They have no idea how hard we work, how much we give, and how much we hold in.

This is autism. This is parenting. And this is why we need more understanding — not more judgment.

To the parent reading this who’s been there — I see you. You’re not a failure. You’re not abusive. You’re not alone.