NAMB: My kid can be boring (and I bet yours can too)

“Sweetie, mommy has no flippin’ clue how to recreate the scary snowman from Frozen.”

A few days ago we met up with some of P’s coworkers at a ballgame and concert (#summer4eva). One of them asked me, “so, no kid tonight? I thought you might bring him.”

“Nah,” I said. “He’s fun, but he’s not that fun.”

Cue awkward pause.

Putting aside the general pall of awkwardness that colors my daily life, I probably should have anticipated the reaction and come up with some more parent-appropriate response, such as “this is going past his bedtime,” or, “he doesn’t like crowds.”

I should have anticipated it, because I would have had the same reaction a few years ago. That is, before I had kids.

Let me disclaim. My love for my son is fierce. To paraphrase the words of somebody more intelligent than myself: he is my heart walking around outside my body. Not to mention, he’s a fascinating and entertaining individual in his own right. This morning he woke up pretending to be a dragon hatching out of an egg–literally no segue between deep sleep and surprisingly realistic dragon peeping. At a party last week, he cracked up the gang when he shot the bird with scary expertise and a deadpan look. He may or may not have known what that gesture meant (let’s hope not), but he certainly understood the value of making people laugh. Like I said, he’s interesting.

For a preschooler.

There’s this perception that once you become a parent, your children are the center of your world. They’re more than that, they’re your reason for being. I postulate that that’s part of the reason so many adults are putting off having children until later: they assume that their lives will belong to someone else. That’s the underlying reasoning behind the shock that many people have when *gasp!* somebody admits that hanging with their kid can get old.

As a matter of fact, my first instinct when I read that (that’s right: I’m not the originator of this particular revelation) was to recoil. But when I allowed myself to think about it, I realized that yes, you can think your offspring is speshul and amazazing and yet simultaneously find yourself coming up with excuses to get out of “playtime.”

The fact is, little kids are discovering for the first time things that to you, as an old fart grown person, are rather stale. You’ve literally been there, done that.

There certainly are things an adult can relish reliving. I’d call them parenting perks. You can go into the little kid playrooms at the Natural History Museum and McDonald’s. You have an excuse to go down water slides, ride a pony/camel/elephant, and of course the mother-lode: go trick or treating. And to be sure, some things are fun to “rediscover” through a child’s eyes (ever watch a baby catch bubbles?).

But those things will get old faster for you than for them, as anyone who has read the same story six times in a row can attest to. And the daily play? The arrange dinosaurs by the position of their little plastic legs type thing? I really can’t even understand it, much less get into it. If I present T with a toy and start playing with it my way, I guarantee that he’ll start playing with it in some other [extremely opaque] way.

And getting back the original set up here: my grown-up activities (read: ball games and concerts) are not always fun for him either. We actually do include T in many of our adult pursuits (like the time I took him not only craft shopping at Michael’s, but to the actual craft night itself, complete with gossiping ladies). I cherish many a memory of being dragged to football parties with my parents as young tot. Everybody would be drinking beer and having loud conversations I couldn’t really follow, I couldn’t hold my mom and dad’s attention for more than 45 seconds at once, and there weren’t any good toys there. I usually ended up falling asleep in the corner, more from boredom than sleepiness. I would have much rather stayed home with a babysitter who let me eat frozen waffles for dinner and watch Snick. Does that mean there was something inherently wrong with me, for not finding my parents’ parties interesting? Of course not. We were into different things. It didn’t affect how much they loved me or how much I loved them.

So why should the inverse be true? There is nothing wrong with a parent who is not utterly consumed by everything child.

Me and T? We’re into different things.

That doesn’t mean we never have fun together, far from it.  He helps me cook. I read him books complete with character voices. We made up a game called eau-de-toe (I’m not going to explain it to you). I’m not saying that quality time with your munchkin isn’t important or fun: it definitely is. But it’s also OK if you enjoy solitary kayaking, wine tasting with friends, or watching Dance Moms while eating peanut butter straight from the jar equally as much.

Mamas and Papas, let’s give ourselves a break. You can love being with your child and still think his idea of a good time is boring as crap. She probably feels the same. And I submit to you that that is not a bad thing. After all, play is a child’s work, and you can’t do his work for him, right? (Answer: no. Put down the magic markers, mom).

And to my un-childed peeps: there’s no need to be shocked if a parent admits this.

(Related: check out my review of All Joy and No Fun: The Paradox of Modern Parenthood–and go read it yourself!)

The Best Parenting Tip in the World

photo credit: K. Wittkamp/Lifesize/Getty

It’s the eve of the annual big snow* here in Georgia, and I, like many other idiots I’m sure, plan to hit the grocery store this afternoon before all of Atlanta shuts down. And I, like many other idiots I’m sure, am trying to figure out how to successfully accomplish this with a child in tow.

* there’s always one

It puts me in mind of a little parenting trick passed down through the generations in my family. This one little trick has prevented many a public meltdown, and I’m prepared to share it with you today. Are you ready? Here it is. It’s called….

Priming.

I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of bribery as it relates to children. And if you’re a parent, you’ve engaged in it at least once or twice (don’t even try to lie). It goes something like this:

Chic Mother and Cherubic Child enter the grocery store.

Chic Mother: Now little Charlie, we just need to pick up a few things and it won’t take very long.

Cherubic Child: I want to ride in the green car!

Mother:  Yes, it’s a very nice green car, but we only need a couple things so this handheld shopping basket with the thin bare metal handles is all we need.

Child: But I want the ride in the GREEN CAR!!

Mother (sensing trouble): Hey! Hey! I’ll tell you what Charlie! If you behave during the shopping, you can have a lollipop when we leave. OK? OK?

For kicks and giggles, let’s say little C.C. agrees to this bribe. A few minutes later Mother’s in the toothpaste aisle, trying to decide if Vivid White or Optic White will remove more of the wine stains.  

Child: Moooom, pick me up!

Mother: I can’t pick you up, I’m carrying the basket.

Child: eeeaaaHH….

Mother: (using warning voice) Charlie–if you don’t behave you will not get a lollypop.

Child: I WANT a lollipop! eeeaaaaHH–

Chicer Mother with more Adorable Child down the aisle looks at you with something like contempt. 

Mother: — OK OK! I’ve got you!

An hour later: Now carrying approximately 45 pounds in her arms and no longer looking chic, they approach the checkout counter.

Child: Lollipop!

Mother: I don’t know Charlie, you haven’t been very cooperative with mommy today.

Child: LOLLIPOP NOW!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH! flops on floor and rolls around while everyone in the store casts the disapproving stank eye upon the pair like so many stones cast at a Biblical prostitute. 

Does C.C. get the lollypop? You decide.

The point is, it’s not uncommon for a quick errand turned into an extended nightmare when bribery is employed. Priming, on the other hand, is bribery backwards. Go ahead and give the kid what he wants from the get go, and then ask for good behavior.

We lived in Washington, D.C. one summer when I was little. We went to the National Zoo like, every week. My brother and I got it into our heads to collect those little animals they sell at the souvenir shop. We wanted them so bad–we didn’t give a crap about seeing the actual, living creature if we couldn’t obtain the miniature plastic version. So my mom took to buying us a new piece for our collection first thing when we walked in the park. All three of us got to see the animals in peace.

You might think this sounds like a terrible plan. Hope your kid will be good, having already given her what she wants? Insanity! I tell you my friends, it works every time.* A happy kid is a cooperative kid. And if you’re worried about spoiling, just think about what bribery does–at least 67% of the time in the above scenario, mom will give him the lollipop, amirite? What could be spoiling a child more than letting him have what he wants right in the middle of throwing a big fit to get it? Better to avoid the fit in the first place, even if he does end up with 42 useless animal figures at the end of the summer. Small price to pay, if you ask me.

*nothing works every time. Don’t kid yourself. 

As soon as I detected the faintest whiff of reasoning capability in T, I started with the priming. Headed to the store? Give him a lollipop first thing (and for God’s sake–let the child have the green car), he spends twenty minutes sucking contentedly and I get to spend an extra 3.2 minutes dithering over whitening toothpaste (huh what?). Side note: lollipops are better than chocolate bars because they last longer, red dye #40 be damned.

My grandparents knew about priming too. On my birthday, they used to take me to Toys R Us and tell me to fill the cart with everything my heart desired–anything in the whole store. When stuff started falling off of the top of the cart, they let me choose one single item to take home. Do you think I ever complained about this arrangement? No way. But how hard would it have been for a six-year-old to be given the run of the store and told she could only pick one thing out? Don’t even answer that question unless you’ve seen my My Little Pony collection.

I’m telling you. If you are ever in charge of a child, your own or someone else’s*, and you want a smooth public outing experience, give them what they want at the beginning of the trip. Priming. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to plan your outing to be after meal time and nap time too. Happy baby = good baby.

* Bonus bonus hint: this works on spouses too. Just replace lollypop with something they want. Don’t ask me what it is, it’s your spouse. 

So do I plan to follow my own formula this afternoon? Ah, young grasshopper. The best advice for running errands with a toddler is: don’t run errands with a toddler if you can help it. I’ll pick him up later.

The Perks of Being a Work-Away Mom

It’s a conundrum many a mama faces: stay at home with the new bundle of joy or return to the daily grind. You might be totally gung-ho one way or the other when baby is just a plus sign on a stick, but when the little pooper arrives, followed quickly by the 12th week of FMLA-mandated maternity leave, things aren’t so clear. How can you leave this precious angel in the hands of strangers all day? (Or on the other hand, you might be chomping at the bit to get out of the house. Or a little of both).

I’m Switzerland in the Mommy Wars, so you’ll have to decide for yourself (my best advice is: you’re going to screw something up no matter what you do, so just do what you want. If there was a perfect choice to make we’d all be making it, amirite?). However, if you do make the call–whether from personal choice or necessity–to return to full-time, out-of-the-home work, rest assured there are some benefits. Sure, there’s the usual personal fulfillment, lean in, yadayadayada WHATEVER aspect to the question. But even more important is the benefits you don’t hear about. Stuff like…

You get to pee alone at least 85% of the time.

Not a problem.

And use both hands to get your pants up and down.

You change a lot fewer diapers.

And go through fewer of those expensive Diaper Genie liners.

Experienced hand-holding.

You have extra hands to help with big milestones like talking, walking, and potty training. If you, like me, are totally clueless about when your kid is supposed to be able to do all these things, you can just take the mean, median, and mode of his “classmates’ ” abilities.

Or ask the nanny, who let’s face it, probably has more and more recent kid experience than you.

No need to freak out.

Even if you miss a “first,” your kid’s caretakers are nice enough not to mention it so it can still be new to you. And even if they do gloat about witnessing Junior’s first step, it’s still totally exciting when you see it for the first time personally, TRUST. Also, they know CPR and first aid and might possibly be less frenetic should the need to use it ever arise.

Unlike – ahem – some mothers, who nearly throw up just looking at this picture.

People ask you about your child without the need talk about theirs.

The MMO folks aren’t listening–either because their currently living the same thing, or they’re too busy preparing what they’re about to say about their own speshul snowflake.

Adult conversations with people other than your spouse.

Sure, they may be about how to send long distance faxes and what the weather will be like for afternoon rush hour, but at least it’s not about Elmo, Dora, or alligators vs crocodiles (or God forbid, poop).

Childless shopping.

It may not be at a completely leisurely pace if it’s crammed into a lunch break or a quick stop on the way home, but at least it’s whine-free (but maybe not wine-free).

I wonder if this oatmeal will fit in my cup holder…

Less home work.

Yes, SAHPs work just as hard–possibly harder–during the day than people with full time jobs. Yet they still tend to get stuck with the bulk of the drudgery (even when the working half is around) just because they’re “home all the time” (right). When you work a full day, that lame-ass argument is totally negated. Equal division of chores: it’s not just a pipe dream!

You get to wear “real” clothes.

Wearing yoga pants every day is overrated (and yes, I have actually done it).

Grumpy mornings.

On those days one or the other of you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, passing off your kid to someone else for a few hours can do both of you some good. Don’t hate the truth.

She’s calling to see if the nanny can come a little early today…

..and the best part of working away?

Coming home.

Seeing each other after a long day apart is akin to the excitement of Christmas morning for both parties. Christmas every day? I’ll take it.

Balance

Right before T’s 2^nd birthday, I came across this fascinating post by a stay at home dad blogger. He was discussing his small daughter’s love of all things princess, whether it came from nature or nurture, and how to balance the assault of pink girliness thrown at toddler girls. If you read the post, you’ll see I commented near the bottom, and the author responded. I thought it was such an interesting discussion I wanted to continue it over here on Cushion.

Generally speaking, I come down squarely in the middle of the nature vs nurture debate. The article prompted a different question to my mind: why do we concern ourselves about gender indoctrination so much more with the lil ladies as opposed to the fellas?

After a few generations of women’s lib being pounded into the public conscious—and rightly so, for sure—I think we’ve just let the boys keep rolling alongside with no particular guidance to complement it. The result is a generation of guys who are growing up with a lack of understanding of where they stand in relation to the independent woman.

I compare it, in acting terms, to forgetting to counter. When one actor moves in a scene, the other must adjust their own position, or counter, to maintain the balance of the stage picture. It’s really not surprising that men feel confused about, and maybe therefore protective of, the traditional understanding of manhood.

Case in point: I simply mentioned to P* that I wanted to raise our son to a gentleman—by which I meant kind, courteous, and thoughtful—and he balked, saying he refused to let me girlify him.

*Keep in mind, we’re not even talking macho macho man here. This is a guy that is totally OK with T taking dance lessons and eating off the pink plate. 

 

I think his reaction is fairly typical. Think about it: most people wouldn’t bat an eye at a girl driving a red and blue powerwheel. But a boy driving a pink and purple powerwheel would get some double-takes, even from the most progressive among us. That’s because we haven’t taken the same amount of time or effort to evolve the perception of manhood like we have womanhood.

1950 or 2013?

We applaud a bad-ass women while also praising her tenderness (think Katniss Everdeen—and Jennifer Lawrence too, actually). Men naturally aren’t sure which side to fall on. Will she be offended if I open a door for her? Offer to carry her suitcase? Pay for dinner? Men really do support women’s independence, but lacking any sense of direction for their own behavior, they waffle. By which I mean, of course, they mostly don’t open the door/carry the suitcase/offer to pay.

We’ve let the push for women’s equality paint the entire picture of gender dynamics. It’s time to share the paintbrush.

Don’t get me wrong. I 100% support the girl-empowerment, don’t-wait-for-your-prince mentality be ingrained in girls. After all, I was raised that way! I am and always have been as girly as they come (no seriously. Have you seen this blog? Last week I spent three pages debating skin creams) and I grew up to be the primary earner of my family. There’s still so much concern, as this article shows, that girls don’t grow up trapped in a box, dependent and soft. Even today, when it’s long been pretty clear we don’t have to choose between twirling in a leotard and welding. Girls today already know that they can do anything.

But there’s a lot less concern that boys learn to be nurturing, expressive, and other qualities deemed naturally feminine. In many cases, boys still don’t know that they can be sensitive and thoroughly masculine at the same time—and neither do their fathers.

This dude….

…grows up to be this dude. (BT dubs, would you call him feminine?)

Little boys are naturally wild and rough…and also incredibly loving. The pattern is already there. We parents of boys just need to follow the dotted lines. And parents of little girls–how about in addition to the requisite spiel on how Barbie couldn’t stand up if she was a real person, we teach her to respect and even demand the sensitive man? (Another facet to add to Feminism! I think we can handle it ladies, don’t you?)

The most important thing we can do for little kids, ours or otherwise, is avoid shaming them. So if you see a girl whack a T-ball across the playground, by all means give her a high five. And if you see a little boy pushing the pink grocery cart when you pick your kid up from day care today, smile and say “don’t forget the Goldfish!”  Now we’re talkin’ balance.

What I’m Reading: I-guess-I-have-to-actually-parent-now edition

Screamfree Parenting: The Revolutionary Approach to Raising Your Kids by Keeping Your Cool by Hal Edward Runkel

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

My kid isn’t even two yet, but he’s very precocious when it comes to misbehavior. When he started throwing tantrums at the ripe young age of 10 months (what’s next, cigarettes under his bed at 9?), I knew I needed to find a discipline strategy I could live with. For me, that meant no spanking or rule by force, but not letting him run the house either. I grabbed this book along with a stack of others at the local library, and let me tell you, I will be purchasing it to keep forever.

“Scream-free” is a catch-all phrase for reactionary behavior of any kind. Screaming, sure, but also running away, crying (hello, me), or any kind of response based in emotion. It’s a check-yourself-before-you-wreck-yourself kind of theory.

The root philosophy is that you can’t control any other person besides yourself, even a very small person. Nor would you want to, if you want that little person to grow up self-sufficient and responsible. Runkel clearly and simply explains strategies for taking a step back from bad behavior, turning everything into a learning experience for yourself first, so that your children can learn from you. He talks about being responsible TO your children instead of FOR your children, releasing you of the burden of micro-managing them (and releasing them of the burden of keeping you happy and calm).

Thankfully, it’s not a NO-discipline book: he advocates laying down basic expectations and boundaries, and enforcing or allowing natural consequences of not meeting those. But the child has their own age-appropriate freedom within wider limits that you set. There’s no training techniques reminiscent of housebreaking a dog, or comparing children to lab rats (both things I have actually read in other parenting books), and there’s no reverse psychology or any other mind-messing stuff.

One of the tenets of Scream-Free Parenting is sure to be point of contention: that children should have privacy. There is a strong vein of thought among modern parents that children living at home do not have a right to privacy of any kind, up to and including diaries and emails, due to safety concerns. While I do totally understand that point of view, and I do think keeping your child safe is your first job as a parent, I disagree that that is best accomplished by being all up in every aspect of their lives. Maybe it’s because my own parents allowed me age-appropriate privacy without my even asking, which filled me preteen soul with grateful relief. And while I’m sure I did and wrote some things that would they would worry about or disapprove of, I never got into serious trouble as a kid. Their trust made me want to be trustworthy. I compare it to punching in on a time clock at work. Studies have suggested that micromanaging a worker’s time makes that employee less loyal and more likely skirt the rules. In other words, empowering an individual results in better choices and self-motivation. I think the same applies to children.

All in all, the idea is to begin with the end in mind, which is something I latched on to even when I was preggers. The end, in this case, is the kind of adult your want your child to become. If you want your child to learn to play games (like one book I read that suggested when your kid misbehaves, deny them the next time they want something without explanation, and wait until they figure out the two are connected), then you trick or bribe him into behaving well. If you want your child to learn to take responsibility for his actions, you let consequences happen. (You got a speeding ticket? You have to use your savings to pay it instead of buying a new iThing).  Above all, you don’t let your child’s actions and feelings determine your own, or dictate the emotional climate of your home.

I do think this book is most helpful for parents of older children (like the above)–there’s not a lot that would be extremely useful for toddler-specific behavior problems. All the same, I’ve very glad I read it BEFORE my child is a teenager, so I’m prepared. Plus, since it’s a parenting philosophy and not a bag of tricks, it truly pertains to parents of all ages. In fact, it describes a way of relating to others that could be applied to anyone in your life, from friends to parents to spouses. Did I agree with every single thing he said? No. But you get the feeling reading it that you are more than capable of figuring out what works for you and chucking the rest. I truly am inspired to be a better parent after reading this book.

View all my reviews

There are quite a few at ease with moral ambiguities

I wrote this post several months ago and forgot to publish it. It’s been a while since we talked about something more serious than lip color and food, so I say, what the heck. Enjoy!

Yesterday at the last minute, I was offered a chance to do a market research study. It was a taste test, and since it would only take 15 minutes and paid $25, I jumped at the chance.

Have you ever done a research study? They ask you all these questions to see if you qualify. The qualifications are set by whatever company makes the product, and the research firm simply finds people that fit. For this particular test, they were looking for folks under 30 who drank MagicX*. When I got to the office, we had to complete a chart asking how much of each kind of MagicX we drank per month. I brought it up to the moderator and she looked it over.

“You have to drink Magnum MagicX at least three times a week to qualify for this study.”

“..What?” Me.

“This column. You put that you only drink it once every three months.” She clicked her pen tip towards my carefully circled answer. It was already sort of a stretch—I’d definitely had MagicX before—but that was about it.

“Oh…” I trailed off, waiting for her to tell me I couldn’t participate.

“Yeah.” She said. “So just scribble through it and circle one of these three at the top.”

I did so and proceeded with the taste test, not really thinking much about anything except whether it’d be $25 cash or check, and whether I’d still have enough time in my break period to eat a real, non-liquid lunch. Then I looked around at my fellow taste testers (none of whom looked a day younger than 40) and thought about white lies.

It did seem ridiculous that you’d need to drink MagicX every day (or be under 30, for that matter) to do what we did—which was decipher which of three samples was different from the rest. But that didn’t change the fact that those are the parameters set by the company. This research firm was hired by that company to carry out those parameters. I looked at a framed certificate recognizing this as one of the top 10 most trusted marketing research firms in the country as the moderator handed over my check.

In the BT (before Tennyson) era, I wouldn’t have thought much of these little smudges of truth, this squeezing of square pegs people into round holes. After all it worked out for everybody: the firm makes its quota of people per study (without which they don’t get paid), the company gets its research results, and I get some new lipsticks.  But I’m raising a little human now. And although at 18 months he’s a bit young for honesty lessons, I have to think about what kind of human I want him to be, and how to make that happen. If I were telling him this little story, how would I explain it?

How would I tell him that when I had trouble telling the difference between the last three cups, I considered just circling one at random so I could get out of there in time to eat lunch? Could I honestly tell him that it didn’t really matter, when I know that MagicX is counting on the results of studies like these to make a better product? Could I tell him that advertising is based on lies anyway, so it was OK to fudge in that department? Because if I did, would he then conclude that his personal integrity was dependent on the integrity of others (if they are not honest, then why should I be)? Why is it OK for me to say I drink MagicX when I don’t, but it would not be OK for T to say he did his homework when he didn’t?  I don’t know. That’s why so many parents (am I going out on a limb if I say most?) wouldn’t tell this story to their children at all.

Maybe it’s better to be open. There are many shades of truth, and if we’re being totally frank, it’s easy to stretch and trim them to fit your own personal needs. Learning to do it is a skill—one that no parent teaches, yet we all somehow learn.

But when does a white lie become a black one? At what point are our little self-justifications beyond the pale (Bernie Madoff, Jerry Sandusky…they must have taken Borax to their consciences nightly to keep them clear.)? At what point do you start questioning the authority figures who encourage you to do something wrong? When the moderator made it seem like it was nothing to change my answer to satisfy our purposes, it didn’t seem like a big deal. But what if T one day tells me he’s going to the library when really he’s going somewhere dangerous, because a cool kid said it would be fun? You may think that’s a big leap, but the essence is the same—we are rewarded by an authority figure for ethical dubiousness. The only difference is the stakes: in the former, nothing serious; in the later, safety and maybe even life. One might argue that adults can make the distinction while children can’t. But is that really true? The Holocaust happened.

It’s a slippery slope; someone else’s encouragement and conviction makes it easier to assure ourselves it’s OK. And Cherry Tree Fables aside, the  fact is that certain kinds of untruths are sometimes acceptable or even essential. I may not be able to instruct baby T in so many words how to tell the difference, but maybe, if I’m honest with him–If I tell him I don’t know the answers to these questions, but that they’re worth asking anyway–I can give him cleats for the slope.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Happiest Toddler on the Block: What works and what doesn’t

This a PP, folks (PP=parenting post). If you there’s no one in your life whose toilet habits you could discuss with knowledge and interest, come back tomorrow for a non-baby book review. 

I was a devotee of the 5 S’s in The Happiest Baby on the Block by Harvey Karp, so as soon as T started having tantrums at the precocious age of 11 months, I went out and bought the sequel, but I’ve only just gotten around to finishing. The second half of the book basically repeats the first half of the book more concisely and with more examples, which is kind of perfect when it’s been eight months since you read the first half.

But who really gives a crap about how advice books are written, amirite?

So without further ado, here’s my take on the important stuff: does this really work? Keeping in mind that with any method, there will be some things that don’t work due to a unique situation, I tried to keep my perspective general.

What works:

The Toddler Brain Concept

Over and over in the book, Karp compares toddlers to cavemen, in that they haven’t been socialized. I get that, but even more useful were his briefer mentions of how toddlers lose all the time. Practically everyone is faster, bigger, stronger, braver, and usually gets their way.  There’s much they don’t understand, and they are incapable of planning and reasoning, especially when emotional. Being a toddler kind of blows goats, really. They have almost zero control over their own lives, and the people they love most in the world (mom and dad) are always telling them “no, no!” This paradigm has helped me wrap my brain around otherwise inexplicable blow ups—like when I give him milk in the “wrong” cup.

Playing the boob

In keeping with the first idea, it helps to let toddlers feel like winners from time to time if you ever want them to cooperate with your ideas. This phrase itself is kind of ridiculous, but call it whatever you want, it totally works. Essentially, you just act incompetent or weak. Prime example that Tenny loves: when he gives me a high-five, I fall over and shake my hand saying “ow ow owie! You’re too strong for mommy!” There are other ways of letting your kid win that Karp details in the book, and I have found that keeping the idea back of mind all day (how many times has T “won” today?) is amazingly effective.

Feed the meter

The easiest way to stem tantrums is to spend a lot of time and [undivided] attention with your toddler. Kind of a theoretical duh, but putting it into practice is easier said than done. For proof, just look at the near-maniacal way most toddlers love their grandparents. That’s because whenever a grandparent spends time with them, they are totally devoted. They aren’t trying to open mail or do laundry or fix dinner. Obviously, you don’t have the luxury of not doing those things—just don’t assume that having your toddler being next to you while you do them counts as quality time.

Gossip and fairy tales

Gossip is when you fake whisper to someone, like your partner or even your kids’ stuffed animals, about your kid’s behavior. Fairy Tales are a very short story that you tell to your kid that illustrates the behavior change you want. Not going to lie, you’re going to feel like a total wack job using these tricks. But before you poo-poo it, let me tell you about last night. T’s been having a lot of trouble settling down for sleep lately. So while I was nursing him, I talked over his head to P, sotto voce but in a babyish voice that attracts T’s attention. I said, “I really loved how Tenny was so good at dinner tonight. He sat in his seat the whole time and ate all his apples! And have you noticed, he’s the best at getting in and out of the car seat: super quick and never makes a fuss like so many other kids do! But the thing I really like the most is when he goes to bed after book time all peaceful.  It makes me happy when he lays right down with his animals and goes to sleep.” And no lie, for the first time in five nights that is EXACTLY what he did.

What didn’t work

Magic Breathing

Essentially, take deep breaths and count to 10, toddler-style. Maybe T is just a little too young to get the concept, but then again, I know plenty of adults who can’t even do this.

Small Choices

Giving your toddler a choice of two options. In both choices, he ends up doing what you want, it just gives the slight illusion that he has control over the situation. I’ve read this advice in several places besides this book, by the way. Example: We have to leave the park. Do you want to leave in one minute and play trucks at home, or leave in two minutes and no time to play with trucks at home? Very occasionally, this works for us, but most of the time, it goes something like this:

Me: Ok, time to go.

T: WAAAAAAAAH (throws head backward toward the floor)

two minutes later…

Me: We have to go, but you can pick—the blue shoes or the red shoes?

T (still sniffling):  [stares at me like] are you serious right now, woman?

Maybe this doesn’t work because it’s a little too reliant on appealing to the toddler’s non-existent sense of reason.  But I like to think my kid’s just too smart for that shiz.

The Fast Food Rule

This is Karp’s term for acknowledging the child’s feelings about something (regardless of whether you agree) by repeating it back. This is what you are supposed to do whenever you feel the urge to use logical reasoning with your child (see LOL in the dictionary).

Basically you mirror their feelings in short, repetitive phrasing. Like if T was crying to be picked up, instead of saying “mommy can’t pick you up because her hands are covered in turtle slime and I don’t want you to get salmonella and die,” I would say: “Tenny sad! Tenny wants up now now now!” The more upset they are, the smaller the phrase you use. Eventually they are supposed to calm down enough for you to get in your own argument.

I have found this general concept to be pretty successful with adults. But babies are having none of it. I’ve tried it not only on T, but on his little classmates, so I know. T just sees this as more justification for his point of view. (Like: yeah, exactly mom! Now give it to me).

You supposed to hit the “sweet spot” of emotional intensity with your words– the point where they feel understood, but not like you’re making fun of them. Every toddler’s sweet spot is different, so maybe that’s my problem. This is one of the main tenets of Karp’s method, and it really just hasn’t been that useful.

But the news is more good than bad. I find that when I have “fed the meter” adequately and am in an understanding frame of mind, his tantrums are very brief, and more importantly, I don’t escalate the situation by blowing up at him. In fact, tantrums are rare overall as long as I have paid attention to him and let him win several times* that day.

*like, 47.

Unsolicited advice: what say you?

Picture this: I’m in Target, trying to find some more of the sippy cups T uses (day care is no-man’s land for sippy cups. Where are they hiding them? How hard is it to put it back in his back? Sigh.), when around the corner come three chatty ladies. One of them is pregnant, as indicated not so much by her belly as by the scanner gun poised in her hand. If the fact that two other people were with her didn’t tip me off that it was her first, their conversation sure did.

“What about this one? Oh no—it says 12 months and up.”

“I’ve read that the kind with the straw encourages brain development.”

“This one is for 4 months and up. She’ll still be on formula then, right?”

“This one is for real cute.”

“Check it out: keeps drinks hot drinks hot and cold drinks cold. (Side note: it’s a thermos.)  I don’t think I need that.”

“Yeah, if you’re feeding your baby coffee and soda you have other problems.”

Although they were practically standing on top of me by this time, none of them had said a word to me. I felt the urge to speak up: yes, 4 month olds drink formula…usually still from a bottle. The kind with the straws are not very spill proof, and they’re a b!tch to clean. Don’t worry about cute, you’ll be writing your kid’s name in permanent marker all over it anyway.

But nobody asked me.

I chewed over it. She’s about to have a baby, and I just had one—I’m in the perfect position to provide an opinion. And I remember how confused I was when I registered. But then again, nobody receives more idiotic, unwelcome, and downright intrusive pearls of wisdom than new moms. I’m just as likely to get a stony stare as a warm thank you.

This topic obviously transcends parenthood, or even shopping. It probably happens a dozen times a day at workplaces across the nation—you see someone struggling, and wonder whether to step in. I’m always wary of trying for helpful and friendly and coming off as an intolerable know-it-all and butter-inner.

I obtained my data from this chart

In the end I didn’t say anything, but when I told P the story he thought I should’ve done. So what’s your opinion? How would you feel if a stranger offered up a heaping helping of (kindly) advice, unbidden? And on the other hand, what would have done in my place?

NAMB: A Mother’s Resolutions

Not Another Mom Blog is a regular satirical feature exploring all the vital, life-saving, keeping-your-child-from-growing-old-alone advice out there. NAMB: Because every mother needs something else to worry about.

It’s January! That time of year where we check our running tally of all the areas in which we need improvement. I know mothers are really busy—maybe too busy to make a proper list of resolutions—so here a few suggestions to get you started.

Resolution #1: Strive for perfection.

You’ve heard it said many times: nobody’s perfect. But that’s no excuse not to try. Mary Poppins was practically perfect, and she was just a nanny.

Resolution #2: Keep looking ahead.

What’s more important: planning the outfit your two-year-old will wear for the professional pictures you’re having done next week, or watching her pull everything out of the drawer with intense deliberation and assemble her very own “outfit” right now? The answer is obvious. Photographs are forever.

Resolution #3: Make more money.

If there’s one thing I remember from my own childhood, it’s exactly how many toys I owned and the annual increase of my salary allowance as a percentage of my parents’ take home pay. Don’t deprive your child of that experience.

Resolution #4: Make your child’s life as easy as possible.

Mothers who truly love their children don’t allow them to feel any pain. Yes, even if that means writing his college entrance essay or showing up at the school bully’s house in full camouflage. Bumps and bruises are perhaps inevitable, but emotional scarring doesn’t have to be.

Resolution #5: Put others first.

You really should have already learned this lesson as a little girl, but just in case you didn’t  it all comes down to a simple mathematical equation. Time has different values for different people. The people you take care of–your kid, your husband, your mother, your boss—have time with a higher value than yours. Don’t be selfish.

Resolution #6: Don’t be ugly.

Just because you’re following resolution #5 is no reason to let yourself go. If you can’t fit in regular gym sessions, pedicures, and careful comparison shopping for elegant clothing, you probably shouldn’t have had kids. (P.S. This goes for your home too, which is as everyone knows, an extension of yourself).

And that’s all there is to it! By this time next year, you could be looking back on the past year and congratulating yourself on all your accomplishments instead of strategizing a self-improvement agenda. Remember, most mothers aren’t failures. Just the bad ones.

NAMB: Stride Wrong Edition

Not Another Mom Blog is a regular satirical feature exploring all the vital, life-saving, keeping-your-child-from-growing-old-alone advice out there. NAMB: Because every mother needs something else to worry about.

Hey, parents. Remember the piles of stuff you got before your first child? All the gifts from the shower[s], and all the major purchases you made yourself…the car seat. The stroller. The 4-way convertible crib. It seemed like enough stuff to last not only through the second child, but the second coming. But a year passes, and you discover there was one large purchase you didn’t anticipate, and which all your parent friends conveniently “forgot” to mention. That’s right. I’m talking about baby shoes.

Back in the day, b.k.a. the Golden Age of Infantile Footwear, there was one kind of shoe for people under the age of seven.

Let’s take a closer look.

While a return to hook-and-eye closures is debatable, there is so much to like about this situation.

Gender neutral – boys and girls wear the same thing

One style—No keeping up with the Joneses

No choice—So little Percival needs some shoes. Just head on down to the local cobbler and pick those babies up.

Bonus—These suckers last forever.

But children are different today than they were in 1888. They have needs. Needs like alternative closures, a personal fit profile, and Sensory Response Technology. What? Your child can’t even walk yet? Obviously not, without a self-molding footbed with contoured heel cradle.

Now here’s something worth dipping in bronze

The juvenile foot doesn’t have the capability to strengthen muscles and improve balance. Baby shoes, however, do.

Bottom line: without this shoe, your dreams for baby Mikhaylah to be a reality television star by 3 are slim to none.

You may be thinking to yourself, what must this miracle of modern technology be worth? I already have a second mortgage on the house, but I’m sure I could scrape together what it takes to ensure my child is flying walking by 7 months. Maybe I could hold a bake sale. Oh, little mama, there’s no need for all that! This shoe is yours for only $42.50. We even have some clearance shoes priced at only $31.99! You might have heard the lie that babies and children grow out of shoes in an average of three months, creating the necessity of repeating your purchase four times a year. That’s simply propaganda by the underground revolutionaries who are trying to bring back the Golden Age of I.F.

Also, I’m really not sure how your baby will be able to show his face at preschool without miniature Sperry Topsiders.

And to my baby-deprived compadres:

You probably did something bad recently. Ran over the neighbor’s cat, perhaps, or forgot to call your grandmother on her 81st birthday.  Might I recommend borrowing a toddler and taking them to try a few pairs at the nearest children’s shoe store, preferably during the back-to-school tax holiday? There’s no place better when a little self-flagellation is in order. (Next time, maybe you’ll make the right decision: lie to your boyfriend that you’re on birth control, so you can have a baby like a normal person. But that’s another topic for another time).