A story to share–and oh, how I love stories!
In my care a four, seven, and thirteen year old. The two older ones at the table, totally focused on homework and projects. The 4-year-old–Mr. N I’ll call him–immersed in Lego on the floor. Me? Preparing after-school snacks.
Mr. N, tending toward having things ‘just so’ in life, couldn’t get his Lego plane to look just like he wanted. The whine was the first sign:
“Aaaaliiiccce! I can’t DO it. It doesn’t LOOK right…” Here we go…something that we’d done before and I’m sure would do again.
Me: “You sound frustrated!”
Mr. N: “I can’t DOOOOOOOOOOO it!” Escalating rapidly.
Me: “Can I help?
Mr. N: (Now flopping on floor), “NO. NObody can. I can’t DO it…”
And his half-constructed plane is thrown across the floor, busting all to pieces, and the wailing and screaming that followed was to be admired for its intensity 
Okay…so here is where we all find ourselves at some point in our parenting journey–and most likely quite often, depending on age and stage of kids. Here is where I’d like to say how calm and matter-of-fact I felt as I let Mr. N know it is time to take a break and calm down. This is where I’d like to tell you how easily he complied by gathering himself up and snuggling on the couch and quickly pulling himself together to go try again.
I’d like to be able to say that. But the reality? It looked a bit different. I felt my temperature rise…the words going through my head: “Argh! Mr. N is doing it again! Throwing a tantrum over the littlest thing! And the other two kids are trying to work. When is he going to learn? How can I get him to STOP????”
I did have the where-with-all to act-as-if I felt calm and matter of fact. It helped that I had a 7 and 13-year-old watching me intently, and role modeling for them was important to me. Take whatever works to (pretend to) do it well! I do believe that really was my first PAUSE.
Me, with clenched teeth and an extra firm tone of voice–the best I could do in the moment:
“Mr N, you are having a hard time. Your screaming is making it difficult for the girls to do their work. Time to go downstairs until you are calmer and ready to try again.” Sounds good, right? It was–even if I did feel angry, myself. Self-control–a strength!
Mr N had no ability to pick himself up and head downstairs–too busy wailing and flailing. I picked him up working hard at containing MY anger. Thank goodness for the two sets of eyes watching my every move–another PAUSE of sorts. Off we went down to his room in my house screaming away. I plunked him down and said, “When you have calmed down, we can try again.”
And here is where I can honestly say I did well.
Mr N is screaming and flailing and I found myself sitting sideways in the doorway. I knew from previous experiences that closing the door just added to the turmoil via kicking…and I knew for certain my visible nearness helped him feel connected–even in the midst of doing anything he could to push me away. Connection is key.
I sat myself down and averted my eyes. I kept Mr N company–quietly and respectfully. I stayed connected and available. I paused. Okay, so I plugged my ears for awhile, as well. And breathed. And wished for him to calm down SOON so we could move on…
Thirty minutes later (yes, thirty minutes–I had quite the time to PAUSE in that doorway!) as his screams had turned to sobs, I found I could interject (you know, in-between sobs when they try to catch their breath?) “I hear you are working at calming down. When you are ready, we can head back upstairs and try again.” Mr N knew he could have my lap if he wanted (he didn’t), he knew I wouldn’t leave…and I respected his choice to pull himself together ‘on his own.’
Then something magic happened.
Truly magic. Down the stairs came my kitty cat–“Mew, mew, mew.” I swear to you, she came down to check on Mr N and all the commotion–she really was! And I used it: “Yoda kitty! You are worried about Mr N! You are here to see how you can help.” And I picked up my fuzzy little kitty and plunked her in the room with my sobbing little friend. Mr N wrapped his arms around Yoda kitty (Yoda was not one to be snuggled, yet this time? She obliged..) and breathed in her soft fur.
Mr N, “Yoda, I love you. Yoda, I’m sad. Oh, Yoda…” And he totally calmed down. Within a minute or so he said, “I’m ready to go upstairs!” I said, “You worked hard at calming yourself down and Yoda kitty came to help!” Off we went, Lego plane was gathered up and re-built, snacks were had, and all was peaceful. Really! 
Tantrums. They are tough. What worked for me?
Acting as if. Having other eyes a-watching me. Knowing that Mr N needed time and space to gather himself and respecting his way of working through it all. Staying near and available. Pausing–maybe not initially, but in the end, my staying near Mr N gave me the gift of a pause so I really could feel calm. And in turn, this gave Mr N the PAUSE he needed to feel the same. Kitty cat included.
There’s my story for you. One of many. Maybe I’ll share the 13-year-old tantrum of my daughter’s another day. Really, this is a journey we are all on–it is meant for our growth as much as it is our children’s. Respect this. Welcome every challenge and conflict as an opportunity to become a better you. Always appreciate the parts that ARE working for you–for what we focus on grows. Know you have lots of good company along this journey as a parent!
Me? I am forever grateful to Yoda kitty. She has managed to change the tune of many upset moments. Mine as well as others! Mr N? He is now 12 and builds incredible Lego planes–he shared the fleet of planes he created recently. You know what he said? “Alice, I don’t care if they look just right anymore. Look what I built, just for fun!” And he was glowing.
That made all the past tantrums worth it. More about tantrums here: Tantrums! Loud, Giant, Frustrating…
Here’s to more peace in your household!
Enjoy.
Alice
Author and Parent Coach
©2016 Alice Hanscam
There’s a Mama I know whose 16-month-old toddler was VERY upset recently over the vacuum cleaner and its LOUD noise. You know, all those times you work at getting the house a bit cleaner, swiping the dust cloth here, collecting the toys there, washing dishes and bathrooms and yourself whenever you get a moment? Well…up until recently vacuum cleaning was nary an issue with her little one and could be (more or less) easily done at any time…until now.
...how my young toddlers would pull to standing next to their book shelf and take the books off–plunk plunk plunk–one at a time to drop on the floor.
sins. Memories were made. And maybe, just maybe this young teen cousin felt the confidence communicated by her older cousin and will let this nudge her forward as she grows her ability to be decisive, to take charge of herself, to decide on her own what she likes, what is her responsibility, what she can do…to really know herself from the inside out. (She has some pretty awesome older cousins role-modeling just this as they spend time with her. How cool is that?)
ut how we feel in their hands.
my games all by myself and KNOW that you are there, nearby, waiting ’til I invite you to join me. I like that, you know. I like that you let me get lost in all my own stories and then join in when I’m ready for you to.
…I came back upstairs from cleaning up the kitchen to find all of the clothes from their hamper upended on the floor of their room, and they were both pouring the water from their bottles onto the pile. I was LIVID. I forced myself to PAUSE, to remain calm, and that’s when I noticed they were both beaming. I asked, as quietly as I could, what they were doing.
vincing her preschooler to finish quickly so that they could have time to play more.
ay place attendant appeared—“Is everything okay?” “Yes,” said Mama, “My daughter is feeling mad and disappointed that she had to be all done with washing up. When she is done getting her mad out, we’ll head back to play.”
HERE is where something important can happen. Here is where we can decide to:
picked up the frame and placed it carefully on the shelf from which it came.
…peek-a-boo! In and out of the set of closet beads…delighting each time in surprising the present adult with him, relishing being able to count on the adult being there, practicing over and over again the ever important ability to separate… 
My greatest lesson? PAUSE and the power of calm connection.
Baby? With her voice and words she reached out to Baby. Now Baby hears her…and Mama followed through with exactly what she said. I know, it seems a new baby wouldn’t understand this and perhaps she SHOULD have jumped up to attend. But this Mama listened carefully and knew the crying wasn’t too much, yet.
gs I appreciated! The little one’s self-direction–being able to decide just what she wanted to do and how to do it, her constant talking talking talking, the young mother’s gentle approach and willingness to let her daughter lead quite often–from trailing behind her as she pushed her baby doll to welcoming in book after book to read.
and blue ones, too?”
A bit later (and this is story number two), I was walking through the campground and saw a Daddy setting up camp, his 3-year-old daughter standing near, water bottle clutched in one arm, special stuffed guys in another. Her big eyes watched me carefully as I neared. I smiled and waved. She watched. I said, “You have Special Stuffed Guys!” She watched me carefully–so different from Mr. Exuberant 4.5, and equally “engaged” in the way she felt safe–clutching her guys and staying near her Daddy.
.he didn’t lose it. Dad instead left his son’s room before his temper got the best of him. He headed downstairs to the garage. There he gathered up the Shop-Vac, some rags, a broom, duct tape, cardboard, and other cleanup and temporary repair items. As he lugged it all up the stairs, dad realized how much calmer he already felt. This PAUSE of leaving the scene of the mess, focusing on what he needed to gather, letting go of trying to drag his son downstairs with him worked for him. He found he was returning to his son’s room, more interested in engaging with him positively as they cleaned up the mess.
to your lost-in-a-good-book child and as he looks up at you you can actually smile and ask what part he’s reading right now. Then remind him that it is time to head out and you need his cooperation. (It can feel like a big ask of you when time is of essence, and yet…this bit of a pause next to your child? It really takes but seconds.)
g on, named every piece of equipment. He turned the pages back and forth, discovering, exploring, considering. Obviously he has had this book read to him many times over. Lovely.
Best of it all was being able to go say goodnight and talk over The What that happened with my Mr. Nearly Five Year Old who said he thought I did “a good job using my words” to tell him how I was feeling. He seemed to understand the difference between explaining that something is wasteful and recognizing when accidents happen–and how it’s better to ask if help is needed.
. PAUSE at its very best, for instead of a relationship-depleting moment, it became ever-so-relationship BUILDING. Both you and your son had an opportunity to grow just a little bit more and in such a respectful way–all due to a PAUSE that gives time for listening and learning. For BOTH of you.
And then later, as we toured the castle ruins, what did I notice? How easily engaged each child was with their exploring, learning, asking questions. How mom and dad answered questions quietly, asked new ones, and generally let their kids lead the way as they wove in and out of people, walls, paths, twisty old stair cases.
Those ball games in the rain? They began with a bat and soft ball. I do believe it was way more fun to actually chase the errant ball that seemed to always get “hit out of the park” and over the fence. Racing through the gate to discover where it landed was as much fun as swinging the bat.
Mr. Three: “I have STRONG muscles!” (as he jump jump jumps). “WATCH me RUN!” And off he jumps, running across the leaf and stick strewn back yard, pumping his arms back and forth…
Nearly Four, despite ongoing conversation between other adults in this small space, could get completely absorbed in a book being read to him. Completely absorbed. All snuggled up together in a chair…
This is a common result of limiting or eliminating screens for young children–their behavior ultimately changes for the better because now they are more likely getting what they really need-–hands on, sensory and language rich, relationship-based, whole body experiences.
This is difficult. We all want those LOUD feelings to just go away–way less embarrassing, uncomfortable, aggravating.
How you never asked me to clean up my room--you just had me shut the door when we had company over 
uilt relationships with my girls long-distance. Letters. Cards. Packages. Stories stories stories. And how they both relished these, kept them, and now have them even though you are gone. Thank you for that.
How your love for and delight in children influenced me in profound ways. And continues to. My girls, too.
on with her upset…so no, he didn’t allow her to continue, he respected her need to do so and gave her the safe space in his arms to BE upset and still do what needed to be done–get to point B.
What a little moment in the midst of many that means more than any of us can really know. It is these little moments that add up to meaningful experiences, real and meaningful growth, really cool things. It took only minutes out of the dad’s day to pause and give space to his son. It spoke volumes to his son. Add these little moments up and the impact–well, it is huge.