Not Taking Your Child’s “NO’s” Personally
As we settled into our nightly spot on the sofa, Beena Boo, bottle in hand, jumped down, and looked up at me; “No, Mommy” she says. Then, BB walks over to a chair nearby and attempts to climb it. I tell her that is not a chair for her but that she can sit on the sofa or the soft chair next to it. Playing the game, I move to the ottoman. BB sees this and scurries to the sofa. She can’t climb it and looks to me for help. I give her a little push up onto it. She turns around. Looking wide-eyed, a smile forms as she awaits my response. “Okay, honey,” I tell her “you sit on the sofa. Mommy will sit here.” BB then melts into the sofa, relaxing into her milk bottle bliss.
Wondering how much of a phenomena the terrible twos are, I searched Amazon for books on the matter. The search revealed 9,000 books on early childhood and toddler parenting. The third title among these was “Toddlers are *ssholes.” Unsurprisingly, little ones’ move to independence and “No’s” apparently challenge legions of us parents. At least the move challenges us enough to buy books, go to classes, and seek assurance, that it’s not us, it’s them.
While assuring somewhat that it’s just BB’s developmental stage, it stings to be the recipient of the most “No’s”. Daddy gets “Daddy sit” “Daddy show”. Mommy gets “No, mommy.” Rejection is my BIG fear. BB’s “No’s” sting the most. And, that’s perfect. What a chance to heal these wounds. I attribute it to a divine opportunity, a cosmic karmic plan. Psychologist to psychology. Here’s the set up: BB says “No”, I then feel rejected, and after there is a reaction or response. What follows the feeling of rejection is where the moment of healing exists. Or the moment of repeating reactions I’ve always done and then to feel shame and guilt afterwards.
Sometimes I react with, “Okay honey” to BB and then sulk silently, and later complain to my husband. Other times the reaction is like a wave rolling in in the distance. I pause and respond. “Okay, honey,” I tell BB, giving her space. I comfort myself in my mind (“It’s okay Love”), and then go back to playing with BB.
This week was one filled with pauses, acknowledgment of BB’s need, self-comfort, and re-engagement. Cliché to say, but it did feel like building a new muscle group. By the time BB went to bed each night, I was psychologically exhausted. As challenging as it was, exhaustion was all there was. I didn’t have a hangover of shame or guilt that comes when I take something personally and lash out or retreat.
Parents and caregivers, how do/did you navigate the toddler years with your children? You can share your experience and suggestions here in the comments. Whatever experience you want to share is great. Even a simple suggestion can support other parents in navigating the “No” years.
In gratitude,
Cecilia
