On parenting toddlers

Tristan, now 21 months, has been throwing tantrums lately. He actually threw his first tantrum at around 9 months, but these are Tantrums, Capital T. I don't say "No" to him often, but if he gets hold of something dangerous I obviously have to take it away. Much of the time, I'll simply ask him to give it to me, and (astoundingly) he will. Other times, we're in for ten minutes of enraged hollering, crying, and throwing things. Another trigger is when he figures out that we'll be going out soon, and it's taking too long to get into the car. Once the meltdown is underway, he refuses any comforting until he's cried the rage out (he'll hit me or throw additional objects if I try to hug him). I just sit close by and look sad (my attempt at empathizing) until he's ready for me to pick him up. If the tantrum is bad I sometimes get desperate and start offering juice popsicles or "car choo-choo" (the scene in Harry Potter II when the train almost hits the flying car). It's hard when he's miserable and I can't do anything about it but wait.

Our culture has one primary way of understanding tantrums: the kid is trying to manipulate you. This is utterly illogical, because kids don't have tantrums until all their ingenuity and self-control have been exhausted. If they were trying to manipulate you prior to the tantrum, they certainly aren't anymore. They aren't trying to do anything, they're at their wit's end and at the mercy of their emotions.

A few decades ago men used to believe that women cried for manipulative purposes (calling it "turning on the water works" or other such phrases). The implication was that a husband who was influenced by his wife breaking down in tears was just falling for an act. If that idea pisses you off, then it ought also to piss you off that we see children in this way. How convenient for the modern parent to dismiss unhappiness and anger in one's children as merely a "power struggle." How 1920's to suggest that parents should turn a deaf ear to their child's pain.

Once when Anya was 3, I decided to try the parenting book advice of not giving in to a tantrum, because supposedly it only teaches the child that a tantrum is required to get what they want. It turns out there is an enormous flaw in that logic, which is: it assumes that at some point the child will give in. Anya wanted to eat some M & M's before lunch, and I said no, healthy food first. This was at about noon. Fast forward to 4pm. We've had hours of argument and crying puntuated by TV shows or other distractions, but Anya hasn't touched her lunch. By this time I'm begging her to take one sip of orange juice, that if she just takes one sip I'll give her the M & M's, but no. All along I've been thinking that if I just make the "No" stick once, it'll be easier next time. But by 4pm I had to start dinner and she had to eat, so I gave in. She ate one M & M of each color and then promptly ate her whole lunch, and I felt like the world's biggest idiot. I still regret that I wasted a miserable afternoon "giving it a try" when my instincts told me better.

Incidentally, I never encountered a time when something major was at stake (i.e. safety) and Anya refused to listen or compromise. But the "healthy food before chocolate" rule had little logical basis that I could point to (we were only talking a few M & M's, it couldn't have ruined her appetite). Basically it came down to a battle of wills because nothing, in fact, was at stake except my desire vs. hers. She would never have put up that kind of fuss if I had been able to say "Look, if you don't do X you could get hurt." The futility and inanity of half the parenting battles are what provoke defiance and opposition in children, if you ask me. "Pick your battles" isn't simply about saving your strength, it's also about preventing resistance for resistance's sake.

As for toddlers "manipulating" parents... well, obviously I am my children's best tool. If Tristan wants juice, how's he supposed to get some without "manipulating" me? If he wants his car puzzle off a shelf he can't reach, he must necessarily "manipulate" some taller person to obtain it. What is the big horror about kids "manipulating" adults? Why have we defined this to include disrespecting adults?

Modern parenting advice rarely if ever acknowledges that the drive for autonomy, being a force innate to human beings, deserves respect. Toddlers' desire for independence is usually to be curbed (unless it saves the parent work, as in getting dressed or using the potty). Any independence that doesn't assist grown-ups has no purpose, it seems, in the eyes of most of society.

My son is a kid who gets so excited if I put on a Baby Einstein video that he stands up on his tip-toes and thunders, "Uh-huh!" with a huge grin. He squeaks with excitement when he plays chase with Anya, he cries like his heart is breaking if I accidentally startle him or hurt his feelings (e.g. because he's about to do something dangerous). In one of our books there's a cat that gets stuck on the roof, and he says sadly, "Oh no, dog" at that part. (All small 4-legged creatures are dogs except our two cats, who are cats). If Anya cries he will pat her shoulder with one chubby hand. He's an emotional kid, prone to getting overwhelmed-- he's not "testing limits".

[Insert pithy, witty, amusing concluding sentence here.]