Motherhood&…Toddlers

Emily, Monday 14th June, 21:16

As someone who is new to the world of toddlers, I’d like to kick off this chat with a few succinct words I think summarise my feelings:

What. The. Actual. Hell.

Toddlers are something else aren’t they. Aren’t they?! Please tell me yours were the same. O is both an utter joy and a psychotic dictator, usually within seconds of each other. And as her mum and the person who spends the most time with her, I get both aspects of her personality, full-throttle. She is hilarious, and seeing her character emerge day by day is fantastic. But wow. She is yet to learn the valuable lesson that must come to us all at some point: I cannot have everything I want, at the exact moment of my choosing. She was recently given a little garden playhouse, and is now happiest when I am imprisoned in said house while she runs around, knocking on the door and slamming the windows. It’s a lot of fun — but sometimes I have basic human needs like needing a drink, or the toilet, or to not be sat on wet, hard ground for ten seconds. O does not comprehend or accept these needs. And the defiance at the moment is Off The Scale. This morning she had a tantrum because she didn’t want a sock on one of her feet (the other was fine). I understand that it’s a common thing for toddlers to push boundaries but do they have to do it about Every Little Thing? We’re currently in a period of development I like to call: “She doesn’t really understand — oh wait, I think she might actually understand; she just doesn’t care.”

My parenting manual will be out soon, by the way.

Rachel, Wednesday 16th June, 14:43

I WILL BUY IT. The discourse around toddlers is interesting, I think — you’ve got the Terrible Twos camp talking about how often you end up carrying them by the shins out of Lidl, and the Glorious Little Personage camp talking about their wonderful development. And neither of them are wrong, of course, because the real head-spinner about toddlers is that they’re both, all the time. Wonderful and terrible. Living with a toddler is like living with Henry VIII: you’re having the best time ever with the feasts and jousting and velvet outfits, but any minute he could lose it and chop off your head.

If you think about the milestones toddlers cover between, say, 18 months and three, it’s astonishing. Walking. Running. Going up and down stairs. Riding a scooter. Talking. Playing alongside other children. Picking up crayons and knowing how to use them. It’s like they’ve got the most demanding full-time job imaginable. And for you, the toddler phase is when PARENTING first comes into play. Up till now you’ve mostly been — sorry, parents — a dogsbody, making sure they’re fed, clothed, rested and sufficiently entertained. This is a higher gear. Get all your health points ready, because you’re levelling up. Do you feel the shift?

Emily, Wednesday 16th June, 21:04

I definitely do, although there is still a fair amount of dogsbodying going on. I seem to spend an inordinate amount of time picking Cheerios, grated cheese and crisps up from the floor (note the beige theme, but that’s a discussion for another day).

You’re right about the discourse surrounding toddlers. I’ve found that it’s much more rife with judgement than the baby stage. When they’re babies, everyone celebrates the slightest little thing they achieve. By the time they become toddlers, the stakes seem to be higher.

Take, for instance, speech. O has an arsenal of a few words she clearly feels is enough to get her through the average day (mostly ‘doggies’, ‘baby’, ‘water’, ‘yep’ and ‘oh no!’). She’s yet to hit most of the milestones she’s *supposed* to have reached for her age. But, I have to be honest, I’m very deliberately reigning in the worrying aspect of my personality because a) I didn’t really speak until I was 3.5 years old, so I’m not really one to talk. And b) I dislike the fact that we’re told ‘every child is different!’ ‘Every child does things in their own time!’ But then you mention a bit of a speech delay and everyone starts diagnosing them with something. Or, and this is annoying rather than malicious, fellow mums start listing all the words their toddler can say. If someone says that their child hasn’t hit their stride with talking yet, the appropriate response is not to get your precious angel to count to 20, FYI.

Rachel, Thursday 17th June, 9:30

HA. Why are people like they are? BRB, just inviting you to an Evening of Entertainment by my precocious two-year-old. You’re right that there’s a HUGE variation in when (and in which order) toddlers hit their milestones. I’ve always thought they have so much to cover, they choose which to prioritise and work through the list in their own time.

Emily, Thursday 17th June, 12:25

I don’t know much about parenting but I suspect the following (both of these theories will be expanded upon in my bestselling parenting book): when children hit one, they make an internal decision. Are they going to be walkers or talkers? The latter aren’t bothered about moving, they just want to talk. They’re future people pleasers, diplomatic types. The former, and O is team captain of this side, just want to move. Sideways, forwards, backwards, towards certain danger and especially upwards. Talking can wait — get out of the way, there’s stuff to climb and it looks enchantingly dangerous..

My second theory is that, try as I might, I can’t make O do anything she doesn’t want to do. I can encourage, but the more I dig my heels in, the more she will resist (please refer back to the mostly beige diet which Does My Head In). She’s not the ‘pleasing’ type. So we’re going to have to go at her pace for this. And that’s fine with me. Some words of wisdom/experience would be fab though (I might sound confident but I think about it A LOT).

Rachel, Thursday 17th June, 14:40

Well, I don’t know if talkers are people-pleasers necessarily — my eldest was monologuing before he hit nursery, and he used it exclusively to explain why his way was better.

Emily, Thursday 17th June, 16:10

Ha, fair enough, I will add a disclaimer to cover that in my robust parenting theory that is based on zero factual evidence.

Rachel, Friday 18th June, 11:05

What’s become obvious to me over the years is that the way toddlers behave is less to do with personality, and more a universal developmental stage. For the first time, they understand that you and they are different people. Until now, they didn’t even know it was possible to go left when you said right. Now, suddenly, the whole glorious world is full of CHOICE, and they want to cram it all into their faces. And as a parent that’s hard to deal with, when you want them to do things for safety, health or convenience, and they don’t want to, and they let you know about it.

Let’s be realer for a second: I was so taken aback, the first time, by how hard that was. I was floored by it. This beloved child I adored was all of a sudden making e v e r y t h i n g a battle. Sometimes I did not enjoy being around him, knowing that convincing him to put on a hat in winter would leave me wearied even unto death. I thought this made me a failure, some unnatural parent who didn’t deserve him. I just want to say here that that’s not true. You don’t get a superhuman ability to enjoy hard things along with your Bounty pack.

And, you know, I kept forgetting that! Even the third time round, when I’d done almost every kind of tantrum before (and, crucially, knew how much better it was going to get), we would have days where I would be staggered, and think ‘oh, yes, I remember: toddlers are AWFUL sometimes’. And it’s ok to feel that! Let awful things be awful, and honour your own feelings without feeling guilt about them.

What are you finding to be the hardest thing right now?

Emily, Friday 18th June, 21:25

I think I’m finding the not knowing the hardest. I find I never fully relax when we’re somewhere in public because I’m always waiting — for her to run off, usually. The other day we went to a new play village and I ordered some toast and a Coke — never in my wildest dreams did I think O would actually sit still long enough for me to drink it, hence why I wouldn’t dare order a hot drink. But she happily sat for ages and I felt myself exhale and relax all my muscles. It was like a little glimpse into a future where we can sit like that and I’m not internally preparing myself for having to catch her/stop her putting a(nother) stone in her mouth/convince her not to tip her crisps into a puddle etc etc. Whenever I think O will struggle with something she always always surprises me, so pushing her out of her comfort zone clearly agrees with her — it’s me who needs to get better at it!

Rachel, Friday 18th June, 21:45

Yes, the impending calamity tension! You don’t realise how much you’re holding until there are moments where you let it go. No wonder humans evolved to have a long childhood protected by adults, when toddlers come pre-programmed with a desperate desire to jump off cliffs.

Emily, Friday 18th June, 21:55

One other thing I’m finding hard is breastfeeding a toddler. We’re still going, with no signs of stopping anytime soon, and at times O has been wanting to breastfeed more than ever. And it’s not like feeding a baby anymore: it’s so much more physical and there are A Lot of Emotions if I ever say no. I went through a patch recently of breastfeeding aversion, where I had to struggle against a rising tide of ‘GET OFF ME NOW’ whenever O wanted a leisurely feed. I very much want her to decide when we’re done with breastfeeding, because making the decision for her would probably scar her and me for life. But at times I really want to reclaim my body. I’m feeling better now because I realised that part of the problem was some ‘shoulds’ I was carrying around with me like unnecessary luggage. Deep down I think part of me thought we ‘should’ be done by now, so when O wanted to feed a lot I felt frustrated. But O isn’t aware of this imaginary timeline I had buried in my subconscious — she’s just doing what comforts her, at a time when her world is changing all the time. I’ve had a little word with myself and am making a conscious effort to embrace it, because I know I will miss it when it ends.

Rachel, Saturday 19th June, 8:20

I’m so glad you were able to work that out with yourself. Just want to quickly pop in here that if you love and respond to your child, nothing’s going to scar her for life! Take that weight off. You get to decide what your breastfeeding looks like, taking all the factors into consideration (including her needs, AND yours).

Emily, Saturday 19th June, 8:45

I know you’re right, but the thought of stopping feels very much like an insurmountable mountain right now, and once you’ve got past the first few weeks there is very little support and guidance out there. She’s definitely not ready, and I don’t want our breastfeeding journey to end on a sad note when it’s been such a huge part of our lives for so long. I’m hoping she will naturally cut down herself — that’s what’s ‘supposed’ to happen, but it’s difficult to trust in the process 100% because she isn’t a robot and will do things her own way. There are a lot of ‘shoulds’ in parenting generally; are there any you’ve had to shun over the years?

Rachel, Saturday 19th June, 8:56

Definitely. I suppose the biggest is that success with a toddler looks like pliancy and obedience, and that I was doing it right if they did exactly what I said. That comes from older parenting philosophies, and it also comes from the Judgy Grandparent comments you get online, like: ‘My angelic toddler only needed a stern look from me to jump into line, so your child kicking their legs over a strawberry Frube isn’t being parented properly!’

My therapist says that only secure, loved children feel safe enough to protest, first of all. Whew, that was life-changing. And now I recognise that my job as a toddler parent is to help them put names to their feelings, while still holding the necessary boundaries. A meltdown is a bucket of frustration, slopping around in their two-year-old arms, and they don’t know what to do with it, so they chuck it in your face. Leaving them to get on with it might feel like the most sensible reaction, but it’s not the best way through, long-term.

When it comes to tantrums, I tried (and still try) to follow the acknowledge, validate, reiterate pattern. First you acknowledge and name the feeling: ‘You sound like you feel really frustrated [that I didn’t let you jump onto the back of the bin lorry]!’ Then you validate the feeling, so they know it’s ok to have it, because everyone has it: ‘It’s so hard feeling frustrated, isn’t it? I’m sorry. When I feel frustrated, I find it really hard too. Would a hug make you feel better?’ Then reiterate the boundary: ‘Jumping on the bin lorry is not safe. We can’t jump on the bin lorry, ever’. Then go back to the beginning and start again. But be there, even if you’re repeating it in a strained, sweaty undertone while pushing them through the freezer aisle in Tesco.

At first you feel like you’re shouting into a tornado, totally useless. They don’t look like they’re taking it in at all. But they ARE. The first time one of them said ‘I feel fwustwated, will you help me?’ it was like I’d won the lottery. Does it stop the tantrums? No. But we’re not aiming for ‘no tantrums’. We’re aiming for children who know how to navigate through strong feelings, and process them in healthier ways. That’s the golden ticket of being a person in the world. If we can give them that, we’re doing a good job.