Toddler tantrums. A perfect example of onomatopoeia in the hissing of the alliterative ‘t’s and the way your tongue has to hit the roof. And that if you say it repeatedly like a tongue twister, you’re out of breath and need to lie down.
I am, by no means, an expert on toddlers. But I feel like I’ve seen so many tantrums from my one toddler that I completely empathise with parents who post questions on forums to the tune of: “My three-year-old is insane. Could this be an indication of more profound psychological or mental issues?” Not to make light of that circumstance; of course there are children in whom tantrums are a symptom of something serious that needs attention, whether medical or otherwise. However, I’d fathom a guess that most of those toddlers causing their parents to cry out for help in parenting forums are just exhibiting typical characteristics of that age.
My toddler’s tantrums can be broken down into:
A. When I Have To Do Something I Don’t Feel Like Doing
B. When I Don’t Get What I Want
C. When I Am Tired and Cranky
D. When There Is Absolutely No Logical Reason For Me To Have A Tantrum
E. When I Am All Of The Above
The other day, my husband said, “I can’t wait for the day when we can have a full day without fighting with Alex about anything. No tears, no whining about anything.” Like the clipping of nails, I wonder if this is something we can only expect when he’s… eight? 10?
For what it’s worth, here’s my arsenal of strategies in dealing with my toddler’s tantrums. The most ideal is to try and prevent them from happening at all. Here’s our list of preemptive measures:
Reminder of Routines
We regularly recite the things which are coming up, which Alex then usually parrots back at us. “So after we get home, you’re going to have lunch, then a quick shower, a bit of playing with your cars and then it’s nap time.” That way, things are not ‘sprung’ on him, especially if they’re not particularly appealing things. We’ve learnt the hard way that sometimes, just putting on a t-shirt can count as Something I Don’t Feel Like Doing, so I often feel like a narrator of mundanities when I catch myself saying “You need to put on both your shoes, first the left and then the right, and not the wrong sides please” before we open the door.
Five More Minutes
Recently I had some childless friends visiting who stayed with us for a few days, and by the end of the trip, before I completed the oft-repeated utterance of “OK, five more minutes,” they would already be smiling in amusement. It’s something we say to Alex throughout the day, to warn him about the end of an activity. One of the reasons he, and from what I gather, most toddlers have tantrums is the abrupt end of an activity, especially one that they enjoy. Warning them that it is almost at an end (I don’t think Alex has a conceptual sense of what five minutes actually is), almost always reduces the chance of a tantrum.
Food and Drink
All you need is one experience of a famished toddler lashing out at you to forever after have two or six snacks in your bag just in case you’re caught in a traffic jam and can’t get to a proper meal at the usual time.
However, for whatever reason, maybe because we are tired and forget to do one of the above, we find ourselves in the throes of a tantrum. What do we do?
Walk Away
My first tactic is almost always to remove myself from the scene and let him cry it out. If it’s a less serious tantrum, he winds down after a minute and then goes on playing like nothing’s happened. Admittedly, this result is less common than I would hope, but it does exist!
Sofa Time
When his tantrums fall into category A and B and walking away hasn’t made a difference, we then place him on the sofa (in some households it’s called Timeout or the naughty seat; ours is the sofa, which I sometimes regret because we occasionally have misunderstandings when I simply want him to sit on the sofa for an innocuous reason). This is usually accompanied by a harsh word, some water and no toys until he stops crying, and depending on the situation, apologises. We then have a conciliatory cuddle and a discussion about his behaviour and why he was punished. Or, if he’s still sore, he plays by himself after a grudging apology before eventually coming round.
Choose Your Battles
It’s not uncommon to have a particularly tantrum-filled day, in which case walking away and sofa time as responses to every episode results in misery for all parties, including your poor neighbours. I tend to err on stubborn consistency and my husband on leniency, but when he says, “You know, I don’t want to fight him the whole day, so some things I just let go,” it makes a lot of sense. I remember one day when it had been just me and Alex the whole day, with tears and raised voices scattered throughout in five to six separate incidents, and by the end I felt like the world’s worst mother who both hated making my kid cry but also felt I had to in order to be a good mother. So now I choose my tantrums to deal with, for my own emotional sanity.
And when all else fails, there is the comfort that this too, shall pass, and we will probably look back at this when Alex is a teenager and think… tantrums? What were those?
–
Uma is a Malaysian working mum with a French husband and a toddler named Alex living in their fourth country together.
Image credit: Flickr user Chirag Rathod
