Time for me to come clean.
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong . . .
Wait . . . that's not my confession--that's the introduction to "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables. Not quite the same, but sort of. What I meant to say was:
There was a time when kids would scream
and it meant they were spoiled
and their parents were slacking
There was a time
Then my thoughts were foiled!
Because really, I used to be one of those young people with no parenting experience who would hear the wailings of toddlers and small children and think, "My goodness! Can't you make them stop?" And worse, beyond thinking that, I honestly believed it. I truly thought that about 80% of the time parents could make their children stop screaming by sheer force of excellent parenting.
It is with humble heart (and a screaming toddler) that I approach the internet to say I'm sorry. And wrong. And tired of failing to understand what's wrong. Because everything. Warrants. A scream.
Now, please don't gloat. (You're doing it anyway! I can feel your smugness over the network connection, now stop it!) We all learn different things at different times, and I was just slower on this one, all right? Besides, think back to when it was you, be the bigger person, and find it in your soul to pity me. Recall the first--no matter how early or late in your child's life--time you realized that your "precious sweetums" (No, of course I don't call my kid that, but if YOU do, that's lovely!) was not actually a full-blooded angel. Not because angels don't have blood, but because your child was not behaving in an angelic manner. It's a disappointing moment, but you know, it happens.
The time will come when the adorable larva that once rolled on your floor will take his or her first steps, and you will think it is sweet--until those steps lead them up to the kitchen table at every opportunity of unsupervision. Soft gurgles and laughs will turn to high-pitched shrieks of anger and a mischievous cackle that you just don't trust. And as these--and other just as horrifying--things happen, you will ask yourself what it is you're doing wrong or what more you could do to stop these uncivilized behaviors. I hope at this point you will come to the same conclusion that I have: you can do nothing. I am only half kidding.
Sure, you can do the normal parent stuff--the stuff you're probably already doing--but when it comes down to it, just realize that most of this is happening not because you're a bad parent. It's simply happening because you're raising a precocious 15 month old who thinks the terrible twos sound like great fun. Of course, I can really only speak from my own experience, so maybe your child really is spoiled (please read this with a good-natured tone and smile injected), but I think when your child's personality outgrows his or her language development, you're bound to experience some frustration.
Shall I add insult to injury? The other day we were watching Super Why!--which we sometimes do when the day is long and the sounds of despair are many--and we caught an episode in which the Super Readers' friend, Wolfie (Wolfy? Wolfee? I'm sticking with Wolfie.), kept growling because he was upset. The moral of that story was "Use your words!" Which is great, except, guess what? Sporadic vocabulary of maybe three words--none of which is "words." So, that's awesome.
At least we're to the point now where I can tell she understands some of my words. That's a start, right? I was extremely excited the day I told Melody "No!" and she understood. Little did I realize how much more frustrating it is to be heard, understood, and ignored than it is to simply not be understood. With limited communication skills and even less patience, what's a mom to do?
Hang in there, I guess. Enjoy the screams from bed that mean "I'm awake and ready to come out!" Bask in the screams from the other side of the bathroom door that mean "MOM! What are you doing in there, and why can't I come in?" Revel in the screams that mean "That thing you're doing looks fun! Let me do it with you. And climb on you. And throw books in your face. And stick my finger up your nose, and . . . Mom, why aren't we doing that fun thing anymore, mom . . . ?" and all the other cryptic screams that set your teeth to gritting.
But better than that, enjoy (wholly and sincerely) the moments when she does heed your commands. When she throws her arms around you and hugs you so tightly that you wish your day would stop and all afternoon could just be little arms, a head on your shoulder, and happy smiles. Meditate upon watching her set out her play dishes, fold her arms, and "pray" before "eating." Savor seeing her lay down on the floor next to her daddy and snuggle her head into the crook of his elbow. Pay attention to the sweet moments of joy and let them blur the memory of tantrums. In doing so, you may become aware of just how much more frequently the cute and well-behaved make an appearance than the out-of-control and bratty. To quote Pollyanna (who was not actually quoting Abraham Lincoln), "When you look for the bad in mankind expecting to find it, you surely will." Now, take that, invert it, and don't be too hard on yourself: you're raising quite an enjoyable child.
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