Embracing the Power of Positivity in the Midst of the Terrible Twos

So, you have a toddler. How's that going?

When my daughter was born she was exceptionally easy. Just a few hours old, lying in her little hospital crib (which resembles a large Tupperware container, slightly) she lay there placidly looking around her in the nursery, while the other babies on either side of her lay screaming, positively desperate for some reason.

I took her home and within the first few weeks we established when nighttime occurred and that it's for sleeping. She fed very well, had no colic, and gave us her first smile at around 3 weeks of age. She barely cried and continued to flourish throughout infancy, taking this big new life in her stride like she was born for this shiz.

I watched as other parents battled with mysterious illnesses, crying fits, all-nighters and endless anxiety while I sailed through most of the milestones breezily. I suppose I developed a little bit of self-righteousness, which has been a wonderful feather in my cap, until now. It has all crumbled to the ground leaving dust at my feet, which I now have to kiss, ever-so humbly. The terrible twos have arrived, and nothing could have prepared me for the constant negotiating that has to take place roughly every 75 seconds in order to get the basics done that need doing in the home and with life in general.

Yesterday, Sunday, I was greeted in the kitchen by an upset toddler, crying about her blanket. It wasn't a real cry either, more like the sound a cat makes when it's left outside on a rainy ledge combined with the whining noise that happens when you deflate a balloon by stretching the opening and letting the air squeak out. The blanket, which was under discussion, was bundled in her arms and I asked her what's the matter, how can I help?

She continued to make the shrill, whiny, kind-of like a-seal-giving-birth noise, muttering the same words "my blanket" but she added a hint of accusation to her tone, clearly I had wronged her beloved square-shaped companion in some dreadful way. After repeatedly asking how I could help and receiving only the mysterious whining sound as a reply in the same two words, I figured it must be that there is a corner of the blanket that is touching the floor, so I picked it up, gently folded it into her arms, and smiled comfortingly. In response, beloved blankie was cast away and a fit of screams and tears with banging fists and an arched back decorated my kitchen floor.

Moral of the story?

Don't look for morals. Don't look for sanity. Don't assume that what worked yesterday will work today, it will probably only infuriate the tiny terrorist. Toddlers follow no rule book. "Learn the rules like a pro so you can break them like an artist." Yes. I am convinced my two-year old is familiar with this quote by Picasso because she lives by it.

How is this all positive?

It's all about perspectives and choosing your viewpoint of a situation. The toddler phase is a hell of a thing, it tests the limits of your patience not only a daily basis, but multiple times per hour. Basically, it's giving you the opportunity to grow yourself as a parent, to extend the levels to which your patience can reach. Allow the moment to sweep you up, feel yourself move with it, but resist the urge to lose your shiRt.

Something which helps me tremendously is remembering that this is a crucial learning point for this young madam. No, she is not purposely trying to be difficult, her brain is developing, which brings her a new awareness of her surroundings, and of herself. She is discovering that she is a sentient being with a will. She will try to exercise that will and it is important to allow her to do that in a space that is appropriate and safe, and it is important to show her where the boundaries are. I realize this sounds very vage and theoretical, how do you manage a tantrum, mid-trantrum?

1. Change the way you view the child. It is not a child misbehaving, it is a child experiencing and overwhelming sensation he or she cannot manage. What ensues, is a meltdown. See the child as a humanbeing experiencing a problem he or she cannot resolve alone. When you realize that this child has only just expanded its view of the world, you realize it may have trouble adjusting to all the new discoveries, whether these are physical, emotional, or mental. It's not your job to know or analyze what they are, it's just your job to be the place of calm in the storm. Do not join the storm. One storm plus one storm equals two storms. Your storm will not cancel out the other one.

2. Don't try to calm the child down. Think about the last time you really lost your temper. you were livid. Imagine in the midst of that someone told you to calm down. Did that inspire a sense of well-being and calm inside you? No. The ost unhelpful thing you can say to anyone who is upset is 'calm down'. Instead, try the next step.

3. Use your artillery. Wait what? You have artillery? Of course you do! The trick is that you only have it when you become aware of it. Your weaponry is that you are in a mirror situation. WHatever you do and feel will be reflected back at you. You need to be calm, this will inspire a sense of calm. It is not immediate, it takes a few minutes, you need to breathe through whatever you feel and be the point of positivity for your child. This is not spoiling. I find that by simply dropping to my knees instantly and wiping all expression off my face is perfect. I sit there at her eye level with my hands on my knees, palms facing upward. I do not reach for her, speak to her, or pursue her in any way. I don't try to encourage her to do anything. I am simply there. Absolutely 100% of the time without fail she sees this and holds eye contact. I move my hands maybe an inch towards her. 100% of the time she responds by reducing the metldown to a sob and eventually collapsing into my arms, or she dives at me immediately, the tight, angry little body instantly melts into my arms, seeking comfort.

4. I use logic. Once she is calm, and I do not rush her, I allow her to cry until she feels better, we talk. If she didn't want to get dressed and that resulted in a meltdown I explain to her that oncfe she puts her clothes on we want to go for a walk, or we want to go and visit her friend. I try to make the acitivty sound enticing and allow her to understand that in order to get X she must do X and it won't help to cry. There is no harsh tone, no reprimand, a simple explanation. I am dumbfounded at how well this works. I would say I have an 80% success rate at this stage which is still really good.

Why do I 'spoil' my misbehaving child?

As I mentioned earlier, this is not spoiling. Spoiling would be allowing her to have whatever it is she was tantruming for, or about. Instead, the answer remains no, but she is allowed to be upset about it and I will offer comfort. It is not easy to handle these big emotional sensations like disappointment and frustration when you are so young. I believe this will foster a better sense of trust between us and it will allow her to learn that no one wants to prevent her from doing what she wants to do, but life is governed by cause and effect. If you don't wear clothes, we can't go outside and play. If you eat the chillis mom told you not to, your mouth will burn. If you sit on the thorn bush without pants on...well...she learned that one too.

By being the point of calm and a powerful positive influence, you can allow your children the fantastic benefits of learning life's important lessons, while you foster a close and loving relationship that does not include physical punishment or verbal shaming. One day, my baby won't cry about not having enough cheese on her food, or complain because her pet chicken touched her. Or moan that her bath water is wet. I do lose my temper at times, I am only human, but I laugh my through so many of the daily hiccups and battles simply because they're hysterical. I am finding the terrible twos to be a God-given opportunity to fine-tune my power of positivity as a parent, and for that, I am grateful. Most of the time.