Enter the Tantrum

It's not quite in the door yet but certainly, the tantrum has pushed the door ajar and is peeking into our mornings these days. Something has shifted. For one, my little boy has learned to kiss and hug and climb on my lap, wrap his arms around my neck and put his head on my shoulder. He says a bunch of words and wants to say many more. He makes jokes and laughs at them.

But note the use of the term "my little boy". It is starting to feel more accurate than saying "my baby". He's becoming an independent being reaching for the limits of his capabilities, and finding them too often (or not finding them, but that's a whole other problem). He knows exactly what he wants but half the time he can't communicate it or accomplish it. It leads to a lot of frustration for both of us when he wants to drink the smoothie all by himself, when he wants that--no that--NO, THAT!! when he wants up, no down, no up, now down, no....WAAAAHHHH!!

My approach has been haphazard. Usually, I'm trying to get coffee or dinner made, and I am alternately comforting, distracting, or feeding him while in between I dash around chopping and wiping things. By the time we eat he is so frustrated he doesn't want to eat, and I am there trying to keep him in the highchair and calm n any which way so he may eat a few more bites. Meals end in a meltdown 70% of the time. The whole process of creating and eating food just seems to wind him up, and it feels a bit frantic for me too.

The other night I was just roaming around the internet and found this article which really helped me start thinking about it in a new way. A way that wasn't about: how do I get things done and keep him from melting down. Patty Wipfler suggests that instead, we parents just accept that the storm is building, and watch and wait for it to come, gently and lovingly enforcing the limits we need to enforce to keep our child safe and teach them. She talked about how toddlers just feel a building of frustration and it has to be let out in order for them to clear their minds and bodies and try again at whatever is making them crazy. She even suggested that if we know that a certain activity brings on a meltdown, then we should just anticipate it and build it in (like, reheat dinner after it's over).

I loved her article. And then yesterday morning I got to give it a try. We started out as usual--"What's wrong baby? You want up? OK. Wait, I have to put you down while I grind the beans. Just for a sec. It's OK baby. It's OK.....no, I can't hold you anymore, I have to do this...." The Boodge was testy as usual, holding my pantleg and crying, getting more and more upset. So I sat down on the kitchen floor with him, and waited for what was to happen.

He started to cry harder, got into my lap (standing) and put his arms around my neck, wailing in my ear. I offered him some words of empathy, rubbed his back. He escalated to sobs. Drooling, snotting, tearing sobs in my ear. At first he wouldn't let me hold him, but after a time he sort of kneeled on my lap and his trio of mucous saturated my shoulder. As I waited for the storm to pass, it was clear to me that this had been pent up for a long time, put off partly by all my efforts to entertain and distract him morning after morning. But yesterday, he let it all out.

After about 15 minutes, not long, he began to sputter out. Calmer, he relaxed more into my lap and my comforting hugs, and he looked at me and offered me a little smile. Soon, his playful self emerged again and he jumped off my lap and went into the living room to play while I finished getting breakfast ready.

And that was that. It was brilliant! We ate in peace, and he actually ate well, and then all day long he seemed calmer, less easily bugged. And here we are, 5 meals later, and there has not been a meltdown at any of them, or anytime really. I can't say I've figured out what was so frustrating, but it doesn't seem to matter. Whatever it was, he was able to let it out with my love and support, and he felt better.

I'm sure there will be another storm soon enough, and I'm so grateful for the learning that I don't have to fear and evade the tantrum. There is so much about it that feels right: allowing him to express himself, teaching him that I will be there for him to help him through dark emotions, and knowing that I don't need to give in on the limits I want to set with him because he may "freak out." As one who has had many a torrential cry in my life, I know it can be scary to let go, but that when it's over, I feel cleansed and ready to move on with new courage. I saw that in my little boy. So enter the tantrum. I'm even looking a little forward to the next one.

I know, seasoned parents out there, that it's only just begun and I've yet to weather a true, hurricane force tantrum. I don't mind if you give a little chuckle at how much I don't know. But I'm going to try to come at this tantrum thing like a storm watcher--staying safe while allowing myself to look into and understand the force behind the weather. It feels better than the running for my life or, and more conscious than hunkering down, watching movies and ignoring it.