Jekyll and Hyde. My child has been both and in the same minute.
I swear to God, he can be laughing and acting as if I’ve just told him the best joke in the world and then in t-minus two seconds, his face falls, he gives me the warning stare that something has crossed his mind and he’s off. What comes into his head? It’s as if one second he’s contemplating how beautiful last night’s sunset was and then, BAM, images of masses of people dying flash into his mind. I just want to stop and say,
“Dude, whatever you’re thinking of, STOP.”
But I, as every other parent knows, knows that will never work and I find myself playing the “voice game”. What’s the “voice game” you might ask? It’s the game that we all play during these scenarios, the “how stern can I make my voice to get the job done” game. I usually start with easy going, breezy with a dash of Cheech and Chong.
“It’s cool Man, nothing’s wrong. The playdough snowman doesn’t need to have a hat on right now.” Then if he’s not getting a contact high from that, I down grade to the “Barry White”, the non-sexy Barry White, the Barry White that his agent heard when a record deal fell through. It’s low and slightly masculine.
“Look, everything is fine. You’re fine. The playdough snowman is fine. You need to stop.” When Barry’s not smoothing out things, which is normally the case. I use the method that works the best for us, the active ignore.
“He sits and screams. I make snowflakes with red playdough. He starts kicking his legs. I turn the snowflakes into snakes. He starts beating his hands on the ground. I turn the snakes into rope and wonder if red homemade playdough can bear the weight of a 140 lb woman out the side of a window. Then there’s the magical sound I’ve been waiting for, the whimper and then silence. Whew. It’s over.”
This week he’s added a new piece to his theatrics, audience participation in the form of flying fists… in my face. He’s two, so they’re still pretty small, but they can have a sting to them. But the parts that hurts more is the emotional one. Who is this child? I never taught this. He’s never once tried to hit me before and now I feel like an extra in a John Woo movie. But as hard as it is not to yell, or even cry sometimes, I’m sticking to my guns.
It can be hard, watching your little sweet child turn into the Hulk in front of you. I can be baffling to think about why they’re acting like this and you can find yourself questioning your parenting. Don’t.
I’m here to tell you, that no matter what you do or say, we are all going to end up here, with a crying, screaming, sometime kung fu fighting child.
At home, in the park, at the supermarket, at Christmas, it’s going to happen and the saddest part? It NEEDS to happen for their development to be considered normal.
So all you parents out there struggling with embarrassment at the supermarket because your little darling is screaming so loud that no one can hear the Kenny G on the overhead speakers, have no fear. Your child is acting as normal as they would if they were giving you a hug and remember the tried and true saying,
“This too shall pass.”
I found this article whilst looking for some explanation for my sweet, kind, intelligent darling two year old daughters random outbursts of defiance, smacking, shouting… Well I can’t say its made me feel “better” as such but at least I have stopped crying now for the first time today. For a while we tried the; explain bad behaviour and ask to stop, followed by a warning, followed by a time out. This works. She realises what she has done. She comes and says sorry and has a hug. Its like her reset button has been pressed. I tell her “when you do X it makes mummy sad, and I dont want you near me while you’re doing X, sit here and come back when you’re ready to apologise and play nicely”.
It really did work. But not on a longer term level. The behaviours are repeated. The discipline is repeated. works. and back to square one again tomorrow.
So as of yesterday I have decided to change tack. I want to know WHY she is acting out. Is it attention seeking? Is it boundary pushing? What is it that she is trying to tell me when she is stood in the kitchen yelling herself red in the face, for no apparent reason.
Yday I took the first twenty minutes of being home from work to sit with her with no stimulus. And just chat a bit. I got a few whacks in the face. Her defiant stare could stop a freight train. But after a while I could see her relaxing down.
We bought bedtime half an hour earlier. A tired toddler is never going to be a well behaved child. This morning I set my alarm earlier so we would have time for a cuddle in bed, a chat, and a story before rushing on with our routine. It was a nice fifteen mins. But when we got downstairs she had a meltdown over breakfast which NEVER happens, its the easiest part of the day usually. The toddler who was so proud to get dressed by herself yesterday, squealed like a banshee today when she saw me getting her clothes laid out.
There is no reason or rhyme. Sat at work now feeling all efforts and energies are a waste of time. But in more lucid moments I’m determined to get to the root of these big feelings she is clearly having, and at least teach her a better way to express them. Who said newborn were hard work? This is the trenches
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