I’m always on the lookout for a good parenting trick. Something that eases the passage of potty-training
or inspires creativity during a tantrum feels like a golden nugget in my
hand. I weigh its heft, tossing it back
and forth to gauge its effectiveness. As
often as I find truly helpful nuggets of guidance though, I also find piles of
confusing or discouraging advice.
Like the parenting book I read once, The Happiest Toddler on the Block, by Dr. Harvey Karp. One of Karp’s
suggestions is to speak Toddler-ese –
a way of connecting with the screaming toddler on their level, in choppy
phrases and matched emotion. I even went
so far as to try it once, years ago at Target.
When my toddler began to throw a fit over not being allowed
to kick a ball across the store, I stomped my foot right alongside her,
imitating her anger. I mirrored her
emotions and her tone of voice, proving my empathy and authenticity. “You WANT to kick the ball! You’re MAD!
You’re mad, mad, MAD!”
At that point, I was supposed to lower my voice – still
using Toddler-ese language – to ease
her out of her tantrum and into placid understanding. Something like, “You want to kick, but noooo,
noooo kick. At home, we kick. In store, no kick.” Once she’d calmed, I could then divert her
attention with more small words and sentences.
I might have followed through if I hadn’t seen the look of
glee in my child’s eye as I appeared to throw my own tantrum. Suddenly it felt like I was condoning her wildly
expressed outrage. Not to mention, I was
sure there were hordes of laughing customers and employees sniggering at my
idiocy. Probably recording my ape-ish
behavior on small, accusatory mobile phones.
We left the store, by what means I can’t recall; I’ve
blocked the rest of the episode from my memory.
I can see how the Toddler-ese
approach to easing a tantrum might work for someone else under a different set
of circumstances, but for us it had been a no-go.
The basic Toddler-ese advice
was probably sound: let your child know that you recognize and affirm their
feelings as valid before teaching them correct behavior, and use small words
and phrases to reach them through their emotions. But perhaps the middle of a busy store wasn’t
the best location for our first foray into this particularly awkward strategy. It wasn’t a happy experience, and that’s just
how it goes sometimes.
Advice is like that: one size doesn’t fit all. All the self-help books and kindly advice
will be worth nothing if they aren’t tailored to the family for which they’re
intended, so take it with a grain of parenting salt. It’s not about perfect advice or strategy
because comfort zones and personalities help dictate interactions.
It’s wonderful to have books and friends and well-meaning
strangers tell you how to raise your family, especially when that advice is
actually helpful. But it’s equally
wonderful to know when to give the advice a makeover to fit your needs. Or when to throw it by the wayside.
As for my family, we’ve still got Dr. Karp’s book in
reserve. It’s not a complete wash-out;
there are plenty of helpful ideas within its covers, but we definitely threw Toddler-ese overboard. Although it landed with a huge splash,
abandoning it was less humiliating than trying to imitate my toddler’s angry
emotions in public.
nice! and encouraging for this Mom who will soon be flying with a toddler...!
ReplyDeleteHaha! I had a similar moment with toddler-ese when Katherine was a toddler. There's nothing like a first-time mom mimicking a tantrum in a crowded store. Seriously, it makes me wonder if Dr. Karp just has a really good sense of humor. :-)
ReplyDeleteGreat advice!