Montana Momoirs
If you read any parenting books on two-and-a-half year-olds, you notice a theme: independence. Apparently, at the ripe old age of 30 months, a child no longer wants mom or dad to do everything for him. According to these parenting books, parents are supposed to encourage this developmental stage so that when the child turns 18, he will hopefully move far away to attend Harvard on a full scholarship.
My two-and-a-half year-old, Peter, had a speech delay and there have been many days that it seemed he might never talk. When he did speak, one of the first words that he could say clearly was “Own!” as in, “I’ll do this myself.”
As his language skills have evolved, so has Peter’s ability to assert his independence. Now he is able to announce, “Do it on mine own!” I had once grandly pronounced that when Peter started to talk, I would never take a single word he said for granted. Flash forward a few months to a typical day during which I hear, “NO! DO IT ON MINE OWN!” approximately 732 times. Because that phrase makes me want to bang my head against a wall. Repeatedly.
I'm all for Peter wanting to get himself dressed and attempting to buckle himself into his car seat. But with a two-and-a-half year-old, a little independence goes a loooong way. And if you should dare to hurry the aforementioned little person along by, say, helping him get his cute little self strapped into his car seat, his head will spin completely around as his forked tongue shoots from his mouth hissing at you and he announces in a voice that could shatter glass, “NO! DO IT ON MINE OWN LADY!”
The largest part of the problem with all of this independence seeking is that it has been scientifically proven that two year-olds are a) illogical and b) slow as molasses. And, while they can walk and talk and use the potty and sleep in big boy beds, a two year-old cannot button a shirt. Their little fingers do not yet possess the fine motor skills to button. But this fact doesn’t stop him from trying.
So after hearing my favorite phrase repeatedly and having my hands pushed away, I leave Peter to try to button his own shirt. I go off and make a seven-course meal and drive to Bozeman and back and when I return, Peter is still fumbling with that first button. When I ask him if he wants help, he responds by saying, “No. Want new shirt.”
Of course most of the time, Peter still expresses his anger and frustration a lot like he did a year ago back in the good ol’ days when he was one – by screaming and yelling. The combination of wanting to do things on one's own coupled with an inability to reason or express oneself results in much discord -- at least at my house.
To illustrate Peter's problem-solving skills and his amazing range of self-expression abilities, I've selected a small sample of meltdowns from the past week:
Problem: Peter did not want to leave the park to come home for dinner. Two year-old solution: A 20-minute drive home from the park during which Peter screamed so loudly that not only did he turn heads the entire ride home, but his voice echoed, ECHOED, off the buildings downtown.
Problem: Peter wanted to get the towel down himself after his bath. Two year-old solution: Since I had mistakenly believed I was helping him by grabbing the towel, he then wanted to take another bath just so he could get the towel down himself.
Problem: Peter did not want the cherry jelly on his PB&J that I made for him and instead wanted the peach jelly that grandma sent. This, in spite of the fact that when I asked him what kind of jelly he wanted, he very clearly answered: "CHERRY." Two year-old solution: Refusal to consume a bite of food while reminding everyone at the table repeatedly, "I don't like to eat."
These are just the larger, more drawn-out 30-minute+ meltdowns. This does not even touch on the approximately 429 mini-meltdowns that have occurred over such inane acts on my part as cutting a piece of toast in half when everyone should know that Peter “NO WANT TOAST CUT IN LITTLE PIECES,” or pulling a shirt over his head when everyone should know that Peter can “DO IT ON MINE OWN,” or by putting a top on his cup so he doesn't spill a smoothie everywhere when everyone should know that Peter “WILL NOT SPILL.”
But remarkably when he does spill everywhere, Peter is suddenly incapable of doing anything on his own except standing around yelling, "MOM, CLEAN THIS MESS UP!"Labels: Columns
If you read any parenting books on two-and-a-half year-olds, you notice a theme: independence. Apparently, at the ripe old age of 30 months, a child no longer wants mom or dad to do everything for him. According to these parenting books, parents are supposed to encourage this developmental stage so that when the child turns 18, he will hopefully move far away to attend Harvard on a full scholarship.
My two-and-a-half year-old, Peter, had a speech delay and there have been many days that it seemed he might never talk. When he did speak, one of the first words that he could say clearly was “Own!” as in, “I’ll do this myself.”
As his language skills have evolved, so has Peter’s ability to assert his independence. Now he is able to announce, “Do it on mine own!” I had once grandly pronounced that when Peter started to talk, I would never take a single word he said for granted. Flash forward a few months to a typical day during which I hear, “NO! DO IT ON MINE OWN!” approximately 732 times. Because that phrase makes me want to bang my head against a wall. Repeatedly.
I'm all for Peter wanting to get himself dressed and attempting to buckle himself into his car seat. But with a two-and-a-half year-old, a little independence goes a loooong way. And if you should dare to hurry the aforementioned little person along by, say, helping him get his cute little self strapped into his car seat, his head will spin completely around as his forked tongue shoots from his mouth hissing at you and he announces in a voice that could shatter glass, “NO! DO IT ON MINE OWN LADY!”
The largest part of the problem with all of this independence seeking is that it has been scientifically proven that two year-olds are a) illogical and b) slow as molasses. And, while they can walk and talk and use the potty and sleep in big boy beds, a two year-old cannot button a shirt. Their little fingers do not yet possess the fine motor skills to button. But this fact doesn’t stop him from trying.
So after hearing my favorite phrase repeatedly and having my hands pushed away, I leave Peter to try to button his own shirt. I go off and make a seven-course meal and drive to Bozeman and back and when I return, Peter is still fumbling with that first button. When I ask him if he wants help, he responds by saying, “No. Want new shirt.”
Of course most of the time, Peter still expresses his anger and frustration a lot like he did a year ago back in the good ol’ days when he was one – by screaming and yelling. The combination of wanting to do things on one's own coupled with an inability to reason or express oneself results in much discord -- at least at my house.
To illustrate Peter's problem-solving skills and his amazing range of self-expression abilities, I've selected a small sample of meltdowns from the past week:
Problem: Peter did not want to leave the park to come home for dinner. Two year-old solution: A 20-minute drive home from the park during which Peter screamed so loudly that not only did he turn heads the entire ride home, but his voice echoed, ECHOED, off the buildings downtown.
Problem: Peter wanted to get the towel down himself after his bath. Two year-old solution: Since I had mistakenly believed I was helping him by grabbing the towel, he then wanted to take another bath just so he could get the towel down himself.
Problem: Peter did not want the cherry jelly on his PB&J that I made for him and instead wanted the peach jelly that grandma sent. This, in spite of the fact that when I asked him what kind of jelly he wanted, he very clearly answered: "CHERRY." Two year-old solution: Refusal to consume a bite of food while reminding everyone at the table repeatedly, "I don't like to eat."
These are just the larger, more drawn-out 30-minute+ meltdowns. This does not even touch on the approximately 429 mini-meltdowns that have occurred over such inane acts on my part as cutting a piece of toast in half when everyone should know that Peter “NO WANT TOAST CUT IN LITTLE PIECES,” or pulling a shirt over his head when everyone should know that Peter can “DO IT ON MINE OWN,” or by putting a top on his cup so he doesn't spill a smoothie everywhere when everyone should know that Peter “WILL NOT SPILL.”
But remarkably when he does spill everywhere, Peter is suddenly incapable of doing anything on his own except standing around yelling, "MOM, CLEAN THIS MESS UP!"
Labels: Columns
posted by Sara @ 3:31 PM
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