“The Terrible Twos.”

It’s hard. But do we make it much harder?

The other day, Nova and I were exiting our local public transit when someone asked me how old she was. 

“Just over a year and a half,” I said.

“Ah. My grandson is two.”

“Awww, that’s so nice.”

“Nooo. He’s in his terrible twos.”

I don’t know this grandparent at all. I’m not here to judge their situation, and I fully realize having toddlers can be stressful. I especially realize this as someone with a toddler who is fiercely independent, opinionated, energetic, knows what she wants, and is an avid climber; and as someone who spent years working with toddlers. Having toddlers is hard. But… 

I’ve noticed something about Nova lately. When she reaches for something I don’t want her to grab (like my cup of coffee that is almost overflowing), I calmly ask her to stop, and then explain to her why. The vast majority of the time, she does stop, and listens to me. But if I yell “NO!” in a harsh voice, or grab her and pull her away, she will either not listen, or break down and cry or scream. Nova can tell the difference between when I ask in a calm, rational way for a valid reason, or when I am trying to control her with my body or my tone. And she respects the difference.

The other thing I have noticed is that when I tell Nova what to do (“please walk on those stairs”) she listens much more often than when I tell her what not to do (“don’t run!”). There is no negation in the unconscious.

I know this is not true for all kids (or any of us, certainly), all the time. But in my experience it is true for many kids a lot of the time. I’ve seen so many instances when parents or other caregivers escalate a situation, piss kids off, and then blame the kids for being moody, emotional, or difficult. 

I once watched a parent ask their kid what type of fruit bar they wanted to get at the store, giving three options: blueberry, apple, or strawberry. When the kid responded with, “strawberry,” the  parent said, “The ones you have at home are strawberry, let’s get blueberry,” and put the blueberry ones in their cart. The kid spent the rest of their time in the store rightfully protesting, while the parent chastised their child for being upset, telling them to let it go and move on.

So, what if the twos aren’t so terrible? What if it’s us, instead, that provoke and engage in a way that makes them feel more terrible?

This isn’t going to be foolproof. Toddlers have big emotions. It’s normal and healthy for them to be responding strongly, to get frustrated, and to share those emotions with us, without restraint. In those moments, I am there to acknowledge the emotions and help her move through them. That’s about all I can do.

But in all my moments as a parent, I try to look within and ask myself first, “Is this a reasonable expectation? Did I deliver this information in a respectful way? Did I show that I value my child as a person in this interaction?” If the answer is no to any of these questions, it’s time to pull back and realize that maybe I am, in fact, the problem. 

Peace Everyone,

Bria