As an adult I think we're often guilty of neglecting to acknowledge the immensity and complexity of emotions that young children experience.  For some absurd reason we seem to assume that until they reach puberty they rely heavily upon the basic instincts of emotion such as sadness, love, happiness and anger.  To an extent they do, yet the problem is that for crude basic emotions, they're actually incredibly large emotions.  A tantrumming child isn't merely being a brat, they're often struggling and lacking the capacity to contain a reactive emotion.  Sometimes an emotion simply becomes too hard and too big to manage.  It has to go somewhere so quite literally it explodes. It comes to the point where they can't control the emotion so the emotion begins to control them. They're furious, indignant and upset. Words are eaten by the flames and the ability to rationally communicate is replaced with lashing out and primal verbalisations.

Occasionally if we're lucky enough we can spot the signs of it brewing and intercept through validating it before it escalates and helping them to understand it; to reason through it with them.  Other times, we're not so lucky.  At this point reasoning is futile.  They're unable to contain the emotion, the emotion is controlling them so they have an inability to reason with it, let alone with you.  The more you try to invalidate and extinguish it, the stronger hold it takes over them and the harder they'll fight against you and reason.  It's tempting to issue sharp words yet since when does fire cancel fire?  Rather than diluting it, in our quest to extinguish it we only feed it.  Their campfire is now a bonfire

It doesn't matter how ridiculous/annoying/pointless we feel the catalyst was, to the preschooler experiencing it, it matters. At this moment in time, it's all that matters.

They're not thinking, they're feeling.  The worst part is they can't stop feeling.  The feelings are consuming them.  And growing.

Yet anger and frustration can be contagious.

Our job is to try and not catch it.

They need us to remain calm more than ever.  They're neither ready nor able to be calm right now yet they need us to be, to represent the calm after the storm.

This isn't to say we mollycoddle them and encourage their outbursts. They'll say hateful things ("I HATE you!") they may even lash out physically.  We need to remember this is the emotion not the child.

Often I'll  try to stay calm (no easy feat for me an i'm only human, I often fail) and let them know i'm here yet I'm not talking to them until they're able to listen. Sometimes, when it's got this far all you can do is let the emotion burn itself out.  Don't retaliate.  If he's screaming at me, I'll turn away.  If he's hitting, i'll block.  The idea is to dilute this.  If only one person is screaming or lashing out without a reaction or retaliation, it will eventually cancel itself out.  Starve the fire.

Eventually they will calm.  Often he'll storm away and remove himself from the situation be it hiding under his train table or sitting in the hall.  On a good day he'll even return and apologise, here is the opener, he's ready to talk.  More importantly, he's ready to listen.  Sometimes he'll just look so exhausted and scared by the enormity of his emotions that if he appears calmer i'll ask him if he'd like a cuddle to help him calm down.  This isn't a reward nor a forgiveness, this is the basic human need for contact.  For security. This is where we can dissect the emotion that triggered all this, to talk about what happened and to reiterate why things happened or decisions were made.  To explain the effect their behavior and emotions have on others.  There is no blame here, only acknowledgement.  You can still acknowledge that perhaps something you said or did caused this whilst maintaining that what you said or did was appropriate and right.  It's important we validate the emotion, it's okay not to like what they're told or asked to do, it's okay to feel angry etc whilst still enforcing that screaming/lashing out isn't okay and your initial decision isn't changing. Reiterate why you made your initial decision, the one they so disliked.  If we want them to lean to accept what we/decide, we too have to learn to accept their feelings towards it.  We can tell them what they can/can't have, where they can/can't go etc but we should never attempt to tell them what they can or can't feel about it.  You can still accept something without liking it.

They probably don't understand their reaction themselves, they'll be exhausted and a little perplexed.  This is why we need to trace it back to the emotion that triggered it.  The more we teach them it's okay to feel something, the easier it will be to then explain that it's not always okay to act on it.

Use feelings in explanations.  Tell them how being shouted at or hit made you feel.  Explain the impact their words have on you.  Ask them how they'd feel if someone they loved said they hated them, or hit them.  Use basic rudimentary emotions that they are struggling with to explain this such as sad or hurt.

I never ask for nor demand an apology.  I feel prompted apologies are meaningless and strip the child of the process of reflection and regret.  They become a get out of jail free card and meaningless. As such, he apologises in his own time.  When he feels it.  When he thinks it.  I'll often thank him for apologising and ask him what he's sorry for/about again opening up the channels for reflection and understanding.  It's important they understand why they're sorry, to do that they have to feel it.  Sometimes the sorry may come immediately other times it will take it's time yet strangely as much as you crave the 'sorry' it's often more appreciated when it's later then you expected it.  It shows they've thought about it.

Recently The Preschooler opened my eyes to another aspect of emotion that I'd somehow not considered before, their inability to combine two battling emotions.  They can feel frustration and anger, they can feel happiness and excitement yet what they can struggle to comprehend is love and anger, love and hate etc.

The Preschooler frequently screams at me lately that he hates me, to which i'll reply along the lines of how that's quite sad or a shame because I still love him.

One evening when he'd been particularly inflammatory and made me terrifically cross, I told him I loved him.  He surprised me when he replied that I can't love him because i'm angry with him.  He genuinely couldn't grasp the concept that you can be angry with someone, hate what they say/do yet still love them.  He appeared to believe that all emotions are transient and you can only occupy one at a time.  This explains the 'i hate you!' in place of 'I hate what you're saying/doing'  The emotion is a whole and the person is a whole, thus if you dislike what the person has done you must thus dislike the person along with it.

I'll admit I've never given thought to this before; the difficulty a child faces accepting multiple emotions and worse, tangled emotions.  Sometimes we have to go back to basics.

Yet it absolutely reinforces that my initial reaction to his hate speech was to state that I loved him.  This is the seed that will grow the understanding that you can love someone yet dislike them at the same time.  That some emotions are unconditional.  That you can love someone in-spite of them as well as because of them.  That he realises even when i'm horrifically cross with him, I still love him.

At times he'll try to make sense of it and when calm he'll either say 'I'm sorry for saying I hate you' or more amusingly 'I hate you a million and love you one' the latter is new.  The latter is showing the growing understanding that you can feel conflicting emotions about someone simultaneously.

I don't think we always give children enough credit for the steep learning curves they go through emotionally.  We often underestimate their level of understanding and their ability to cope with what they feel.

Not being allowed to play ball inside might be logical to us yet that doesn't mean that to them it's not the end of the world.

They must learn to understand themselves before they can understand the world around them and sometimes, maybe, just maybe we just need to remember to try and understand them too.

'I Hate You!'

It's easy to become complacent in parenting and then one of the little sods will throw us a curveball, just to remind us they're all so delightfully different.

The Preschooler has somehow picked up the phrase 'I HATE YOU' and will throw it at us whenever he feels we have done him a disservice. This is new to us. Things One & Two have never uttered this. We've always explained things such as the true meaning of words and to mean what you say. They know that they may strongly dislike something or someone but the chances are they don't actually hate them and vice versa with the term love. So it's somewhat trifling as to where The Preschooler garnered this phrase from that he throws around so readily. It seems we're having to go around this development somewhat arse over tit insofar as to say rather then emphasising the words power and meaning we're having to simultaneously strip it of it too. Why is this parenting lark never simple?

So how do you react to a three year old declaring that he hates you, or his siblings?

Things One and Two have that instinctive response of 'I hate you too' to which we have to insist they refrain from using, because they don't...hate him, not really.  They'll readily admit this when they think about it because that's part of what we're doing, trying to make them think about what they say. To only say something if they mean it. It's like when The Preschooler states 'You're not using my crayons, EVER again!' their instinct is to respond with 'well you're not allowed to use my [whatever] then!' Which isn't terribly helpful. rather than diffuse the situation it merely ignites it. It's teaching The Preschooler that his initial declaration was the right thing to do, that this is how we operate. This is how we treat each other and that too not share out of spite is acceptable.

I'll admit I'm working blind here but I respond to the infamous 'I HATE YOU.' with something along the lines of 'well that's a shame because I love you' I feel it's important to face adversity with security. That he realises no matter what he says, I still love him and he can't make me stop that. It often diffuses the situation. Other times I may reply with 'Oh, that makes Mummy feel sad as she loves you very much' which I feel, subtly without reproach, expresses the effect his words can have on others feelings whilst still re-enforcing that he is loved regardless.  Most of all it's accepting what he's saying.  I may not like it or agree with it and hell, I don't even think he means it but it's important that he feels his thoughts and feelings are valid.  Often we reflect more upon them once they're accepted.

Nine times out of ten within ten minutes he'll either spontaneously tell me he loves me or ever start a conversation with me. With the latter I'll occasionally respond with 'oh but I thought you hated me?' A rather sincere little voice will then tell me 'I don't really' he's had time to reflect on what he's said without being made too.

His other favourite phrase mid rage is 'I'm not talking to you anymore! ' usually said when you're trying to explain something to him. My usual response is an 'okay'. It's frustrating yet I know if I rise to the bait to make him stay and discuss something it will ignite. The lack of reaction is what diffuses this ticking bomb. Predictably within five minutes he'll start a conversation, this is where I remind him of his previous actions 'Oh but I thought you weren't talking to me? ' It's subtle and silent but this is where the penny drops and he realises the ramifications of his words and offers an indignant little 'But I am now! '

Often the above scenario is accompanied by a quality sulk. Usually if I'm trying to have a conversation with him or get him to do something I've asked of him the 'I'm not talking to you! ' is accompanied by him storming off to sulk somewhere. The Little diva even slams doors en route. The huntress within me is raging and indignant. How dare he walk away when I'm talking to him? ! How dare he refuse to pick the pens up that he threw! It goads me to chase and confront. To hunt him down until he submits.

And that urge? That instinctive indignant drive is exactly what fuels his behaviour yet how on earth is he to learn to control it if I can't as an adult?  Instinct is a powerful thing and we shouldn't smother it, the learning curve is that we shouldn't always act upon it.

Practising restraint I have to use the ancient art of patience. Not something that comes naturally to me so it's no surprise that with inheriting my explosive temper they'll also inherit my lacking patience.

Now it's the waiting game. Usually he'll either return with a sincere little 'sorry' or else he will ask something un connected.

If it's the former I'll ask him to tell me why he's sorry. It's important to establish whether he's understood what's happened or whether he just feels it's something he should say. Often he'll surprise me and relay what happened.

If it's the latter I'll calmly state that I'll happily talk after he's picked the pens up. This option he dislikes. It's important that whilst I'm not conversing with him I'm also not completely ignoring him as I feel ignoring is counter productive. To close communication channels completely is sending out a harmful message which could have repercussions on how and what your child communicates to you in the future.

However, I will firmly refuse to engage meaningfully until he's addressed the issue and embarked upon its resolution.

So for now it's the 'I hate you's' and the 'I'm not talking to you's' with the door slammings and sulks. Yes, he's a diva but he's our diva. He's also just a four year old learning how to deal with strong emotions and concepts. It's inevitable that he'll have to push some boundaries in the process. It's intrinsic that he feels secure enough to be able to do this. To know that although his reactions may not always be acceptable, they are valid.

He's learning important life lessons here like people piss you off and likewise you probably piss them off too.

And that's okay.

Honest.

15 ways in which Toddlers and Husbands are alike.

Ever thought just how alike your Toddler and Husband are?

1. If you disagree with them, they both restate their point louder and louder until you do agree.

2. They both snore, hog the duvet and drool on your pillow

3. They both need to shit when you are in the bath.

4. They both throw tantrums when something doesn't go their way.

5.  They're both hideously possessive over the TV remote

6. And grossly territorial over the sofa

7.  Neither will listen to a single word you say.

8. Both will turn their nose up at your cooking

9. Both will tantrum if you don't offer to help them.

10. Both will tantrum if you do offer to help them.

11. If you do help, I can guarantee both will tell you you're doing it all wrong.  Then tantrum.

12. Both will throw things across the room if they can't make/fix it.

13. Both whinge when they're taken shopping.

14. Neither can be relied upon to co-ordinate an outfit.

15. They both sulk, tremendously, if you dare point out they're wrong.

Toothgate. Again.

It wasn't even 09.30am and I'd already flushed three cat shits, mopped up The Toddlers thrown spilled cup of water that was attempting to make the carpet grow and discovered Things One and Two's insults they've been leaving each other finger written on the bathroom window.

The day didn't improve.  By evening there was raucous debate between Thing Two and The Husband which resulted in Thing Two running upstairs to hide and of course to cry.  For you see, it was that time again, Toothgate.  Her latest wobbler had been hanging on my a flimsy prayer to some forgotten deity for weeks on end, with Thing Two point blank refusing to pull the dastardly thing out nor allow anyone else to.  Fair enough you might say, however it had reached the point where it was hurting her and interfering with eating.  Not good.  We tried pussyfooting around our little strangeling with gentle suggestions, we tried being fair but firm and eventually we resorted to that age old parenting tool; bribery.  Finally after hearing her whimper at it hurting yet again yet refuse to be helped, The Husband (nicknamed The Volcano by Thing Two) predictably erupted from sheer bloody exasperation at Thing Two's patented brand of stubbornness.  Rather than put the fear of Dad up her it merely fed the demons of bloodymindedness which in turn fueled The Volcano.  Utter buggers, the pair of them.

I managed to skillfully extricate myself from bed without waking The Toddler (hoorah!) and spent nearly 90 minutes attempting to gently soothe and reason with Little Miss Unreasonable  She was having none of it.  Arse.

So let us fast forward to an hour or so later once The Husband had bogged off out on his bicycle to commune with the night or sacrifice chickens or whatever it is he does and I hear a knock on the bedroom door.  Her tooth was hurting.  So starts over another hour of discussing, explaining, reassuring and bribery yet to no avail.  Thing One was getting increasingly pissed off judging by the growls from his room and muttered threats to punch the hellish thing out in a minute if Thing Two didn't shut up soon and The Toddler who was knackered yet refusing to allow me to leave the room without him, was wobbling and rocking sat on the carpet with sleep heavy eyes rolling in the sockets.  Did I mention that The Toddler has caught Thing Two's cough and cold so is poorly too?  Give me strength.  Give me intravenous Gin. She knew the only solution was pulling the tooth out as well as I did.  It virtually swayed when she breathed it was that loose.  I'm getting increasingly exasperated having used up a years worth of patience in one night and she gets increasingly hysterical.  The neighbours must think she's being butchered, she's screaming that loud.  Then comes the hyperventilating to the point she's near retching.  Give me strength. Give me a fucking miracle. Thing One is getting ever closer to slamming her tooth out with his fist and The Toddler is staring blankly at a wall as if tripping on some epic dope.  She attempted to pull it out yet failed.  She agreed I could try but as soon as I got anywhere near her she screeched like a wanton banshee. Terrific.

Eventually she whimpered herself to sleep with tooth in-situ, Thing One performed his usual in bed noisy acrobatics and I took a sleep addled Toddler back to bed.  Bloody wonderful.

Did the night end there? Did it heck as like.  Houston, we have a problem.  Or more specifically vomit.  Thankfully not the chunky variety, just the gooey ectoplasmic crap.  Yummy.

.....and people wonder why I eat chocolate for breakfast.  It's medicinal.

Are reward charts really the best way to handle toddler tantrums?

If you're a part of social networking such as Facebook you may have seen a link to an article bandied about today asking the question ''Are reward charts really the best way to handle toddler tantrums?'

My answer? No.  So lets talk about tantrums. I think first of all we have to ask ourselves what is a tantrum exactly? Regardless of what they do it is essentially a form of communication.  Through training a child not to tantrum what are we really teaching them?  We are at a very basic level invalidating what they are relaying to us.  We are taking away their voice at an age when they're lacking in the fundamental skills to adequately control and communicate in a calm and socially acceptable manner.  Regardless of the subject of their tantrum, the fact their response has escalated (not necessarily deteriorated) to a tantrum is simply testament to their passion and how invested they are in the matter. Whether we agree with their opinion or not is absolutely immaterial, their opinion no matter how impractical or in our own opinion 'wrong' is still valid and matters.  

Don't get me wrong, I'm not at all suggesting that we should embrace tantrums or encourage them but we owe it to our children to acknowledge them, validate them, tell them we accept what they are saying/feeling (I understand you're feeling sad/angry right now because you want/don't want ....), explain to them why we're disagreeing then distract them and attempt to move on or if the tantrum has become absolutely uncontrollable, just be there.  Hold them tight if they'll let you or simply let them know where you are when they're ready for comfort or to talk about it and give them space to calm down.  It's far too easy to slip into the mindset that we as the parent know best, our opinion is what matters, we are right and they don't understand.  Of course they don't understand, it's our job to enable them, to help them understand.  With a toddler 'because I say so' really isn't at all helpful, it isn't teaching them or equipping them with understanding of why.  Taking it to a rudimentary level we are intrinsically denying them their opinion, their right of being heard and any chance of reasoning.  With rewards we are buying their co-operation and coercing them into silent obedience. 

Worse then that, we are giving them a tool to manipulate.  We are not teaching them to do something because it is perhaps practical or necessary but merely because they are rewarded for it.  If you take away the reward you risk a revolt in behavior.  

Teach don't dictate.  Enable them mentally and emotionally don't disable natural and instinctive reactions. Shaping and molding are not the same thing.

It is healthy to allow a child to question their world and that which is within it.  When we stop questioning we stop learning, to not question is to become complacent and who the hell could possibly be complacent in this world?  If we cease to question we lose our innate ability and potential to change the world.

We don't have to agree, we don't have to 'give in' but we should acknowledge and listen to what they're feeling to help both parent and child move on from a situation.

It's not epic chronicles of lentil weaving their socks whilst coddling and spoiling them, it's simply recognising them as fellow humans and helping them and ourselves become better people.

It's so hard being a toddler.

After tea last night we needed something from the corner shop so we decided to all go, The Husband and I on foot, Thing one and Thing Two on their scooters and The Toddler walking.  He was veritably happy holding both The Husbands hand and my hand.  However, he was not happy just holding my hand, oh no.  The Husband attempted to catch up with the elder two and The Toddler had an epic tantrum and tried to lay down, in the road, as you do.  I had to near dislocate his arms to pick him up and get him to the other side as he did that dastardly thing all toddlers do when they don't want to be picked up under any circumstances, they go floppy.  In his wisdom The Husband thought he'd go into the shop alone, cue yet another epic and absolute breakdown from The Toddler until The Husband picked him up and took him with him.  Just in case two immense tantrums weren't enough in 10 minutes, The Husband, the big kid that he is, went to have a go on Thing One's scooter resulting in a third tantrum from The Toddler as he tried to throw himself on the path whilst I scrabbled desperately trying to support his head so it didn't make acquaintance with the pavement, yet The Toddler was having none of that, little did he realise I was trying to help him, the silly sod, and he wailed and flailed and flopped and thrashed, whilst I scrabbled and juggled and grabbed and in the end I just saved his head from meeting the ground yet he fought that hard he nutted his lip on my knee. Gah.  No really, double gah. I don't mind him having a tantrum, he's entitled to feel miffed however I do so wish he would try a wee bit  harder to not damage himself or at least let me help him.

Lesson learned The Husband didn't stray again and the homeward trip consisted of ye olde distraction trick one 'one, two, three, weeeeeeeeeeeee' swinging him between us.

Oh, pants.

Thing Two has spent the majority of the weekend trying to teach herself joined up writing and cutting up pieces of paper into smaller pieces of paper, over 100 tiny pieces to be exact.  She has a slight infatuation with her scissors, still better then boys I suppose.  She is the only five year old child I know who natters to play out with friends and then dumps them so she can hole herself up in her room and play with scissors....and write, a lot.

The Toddler has been driving me to distraction wit his constant demands to be taken to the toilet for a 'wee wee!!!' which appears to be somewhat of a game with a ritualistic element insofar as to say he has to shut the door, grab the toilet roll and stuff it between his legs, flush the toilet himself, weigh himself, drag his stool to the sink, turn the tap on, rinse hands....turn tap on fuller and then faff about on the landing before we descend the stairs (on our bums) only for him to want to repeat it 5 minutes later.  I never did fancy step aerobics.  Oh for the luxury of a downstairs loo.The Toddler also got his first pair of big boy pants this weekend, not that we expect we will need them anytime soon, not to mention the fact they're huge on him.  Despite being 25 months of age he is only just fitting into 12-18m clothes and the smallest ones were 18-24m.  He likes them mainly because he can take them off, to pee on the floor. We're still categorically not 'potty training him' rather we're following his cues and just providing the tools.  I endeavour to attempt this more enthusiastically in Summer. Preferably next Summer if I had my way, unfortunately he has other ideas, still at least we appear to be skipping the potty.  I detest potties.

Thing one has adored the lack of rain and the excessive amount of time he's been allowed to play outside with friends.  The little ray of sunshine really could make friends anywhere.  However we've also had the same old nuclearustic tantrums over tidying his room.

Spuds & Tantrums

Wednesday night was what one can only describe as abysmal.  The Toddler was feeding hourly due to pesky teeth so as a result I was dreadfully tired.  The Husband was kind enough to let me retire to bed in the morning yet I must confess, rather then sleep I read.  Still, it was nice to be alone and not be mauled and pawed for a while.  The Toddler appeared to be on a poo mission yesterday and rather then nap, he poo'd, several times in fact. Neither The Husband nor myself were particularly impressed to say the least.  Subsequently I then had to spend the rest of the day ensuring he didn't fall asleep and make bedtime even longer then it already is.  Hence The Toddler walking up the tree tunnel home from the shops, he looked rather too much like he was dozing off on my back in the sling so I evicted the wee fellow, mean mummy that I am.  However tantrums were rife when towards home The Husband handed him over to me as only daddy's hand will do, apparently.  I don't really cater to tantrums.  I figure he has a right to feel whatever emotion it is he feels, however it doesn't mean his way of dealing with it will change anything.  So I let him get on with his little tantrum, yes the full lie on the path and cry type, watching over with him until he was ready to accept that yes although he doesn't have to like it, that's absolutely his prerogative but he must hold my hand regardless should he wish to get home any time soon. 

Unfortunately The Toddler isn't the only tantrummer.  Thing One spent his pocket money on a plastic spud gun (I know I know, we point blank banned gun toys when he was younger much to his  utter dismay however, now he's old enough to fully understand what a gun is and what it represents...c'est la vie.  I played with a gun and I'm not quite a homicidal psychopath, well not all the time at least. He was given one rule with regards to playing with it, do not aim at anyone or hit anyone with the spud ammo.  Within five minutes I felt one on me.  He could have aimed at the floor, to the sides, behind him but no, he aimed at me and he was smirking.  Cue a huge tantrum when The Husband confiscated the offending item as Thing One simply refuses to accept responsibility for his actions with a complete inability to hold his hands up and say 'i'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it' First he blamed the maker of the gun, then he blamed Thing Two and finally blamed....the weather.  Needless to say the discourse only served to infuriate The Husband even more into a state of complete exasperation.  Then there was tea time last night, The Toddler did another impromptu poo, this time during tea, whilst we sorted him out I clearly heard Thing Two shout 'NO' at Thing One before the familiar stampede of Their feet to the stairs blathering and arguing as Thing Two accused Thing One of stealing her chicken and Thing One clearly denied it till he was blue in the face (or red actually) However I had a trick up my sleeve, I knew all he had left to eat was sweetcorn which he was dutifully eating when I went upstairs so I asked him to open his mouth.  What did i see on his tongue? The remnant of a mouthful of chicken.  His story then changed to 'She gave it to me!' to which I rationalised to him that if she gave it to him that suggests she wanted him to have it so why would she then shout no, burst into tears and grass him up?  Once again, half an hour later he admitted she was right.
 

The mystery of the missing book bag has been solved.  The Husband had phoned the taxi rank and the shops they went in and no book bag had been handed in.  However, yesterday Thing One jubilantly skipped out of school with his book bag in hand.  Apparently one of the school's dinner ladies has a friend, who had evidently used the same taxi that The Husband and Thing One had, found the book bag and gave it to her Friend to take into work who then in turn found Connor and handed it back to him.  It's the small things that restore an element of faith in humanity.

The Toddler remarkably went to sleep incredibly easily last night with the usual 3-4 wakings as opposed to the recent 10+.  Now I know The Husband would commit the relationship faux pas of saying 'I told you that you shouldn't let him nap so he'd sleep better at night' which is all very well in theory but he does need a nap most days otherwise he gets beastly tired then manic not to mention I need the nap too.  So although I rather enjoyed the better bedtime, I'm putting it down as an anomaly as opposed to a direct result of not napping.

After a shocking nights sleep the night before I should have made the most of it and slept, however, I finished my third book in as many days instead.  Oops.