You won’t hear me using this phrase, though I’ll write it here so you know the topic: The Terrible Twos.

I’ve been a parent now for nearly nine years. Ten years ago I knew I would never curse my future children with words like that. First off, I’m wired to question everything, especially pop phrases, so if everybody is saying it, likely I am not.

Secondly, I knew enough even 10 years ago to know there’s some sort of phenomenon along the lines of self-fulfilling prophecy. Say it enough, pursue it, and you’ll get it. I wanted no part of fashioning a “Terrible Two”— for his sake and mine.

Now, we ARE rounding a corner over here at The Price’s — about to ease into our baby’s third year, meaning he’s almost 2 years old. We’re at the stage that’s more than “toddler” but not quite “preschool,” and I’m not sure what to call it. Maybe “busy-little-guy stage?”

Busy, funny, passionate and eager-to-learn Elijah is a short-stature explorer, scientist and social experimenter. He’s curious and emotional. And he’s a CHILD, not a terror.



But I will not fib: There have been times lately when my busy little guy’s completely age-appropriate but wildly socially unacceptable behaviors get to me. Like his screaming, say, when he’s frustrated. “What in the world?” I think, and from the kitchen I yell to an older child, “I don’t care what the problem is — just make. it. stop!”

It doesn’t take a Ph.D. to know THAT is not good parenting.

It struck me I had been remiss to not anticipate this busy-little-guy stage and all its glories. Silly me, but I wasn’t prepared. So I needed to be a quick study and get proactive. I needed to one, REMEMBER and two, STRATEGIZE — because this stage is here.

So. One, REMEMBER: Those busy-little-guy behaviors — screaming, crying, crumpling to the floor — are developmentally appropriate. Here’s what askdrsears.com says about them: “A toddler has an intense desire to do things, but his mental and motor skills have developed more quickly than his ability to communicate … He doesn’t yet have the verbal skills to express his frustration.” (http://www.askdrsears.com/topics/discipline-behavior/bothersome-behaviors/temper-tantrums/taming-toddler-tantrums)

Normal. So that means now comes the two, STRATEGY.



Nearly two years ago, I nursed my baby every two hours around the clock and folded dozens of diapers a day without much complaint. I didn’t resent his neediness then; why should I now? I should NOT resent it is the answer, but the fact is many parents — me included — often do. The hallmarks of this phase are just so taxing.

For every parenting philosophy, of course there’s a book — or 50 — written about busy-little-guy stage. I don’t have time to read them all, even as a refresher. (I have been here a time or three already.)

I looked ever-so briefly at some of my tried-and-true resources — blending so-called “attachment parenting” with some stricter “teach-and-train-him” methods — and have these couple of strategic plans to, hopefully, keep my son’s twos from being terrible.

1. Remember his antics, often, are simply attempts to communicate or are born out of frustration because he cannot communicate. Ask: How can I help him? We use American Sign Language, verbal words, charades — whatever it takes — to help him tell us whatever it is he’s trying to say. I’m known to get down to his eye level and say, “Just TALK to me. TALK to me.”

2. Anticipate what he needs and be a step or two ahead of him. This takes some planning and work, but it’s doable, and you’ll both be glad you did. Have activities ready for him BEFORE he’s wandering around looking for something to tear up, I mean, play with, for example. Get him juice before he sees someone else drinking juice and screams for it. And don’t ever — EVER — let three minutes of quiet pass without seeing what he’s up to. The only time my house is quiet is when people are sleeping or Elijah is coloring on the walls.

3. Never miss an opportunity for affection. I’m still nursing and, within reason, I let my son nurse whenever he wants to. Most times, I know he’s just checking in for a few minutes of nurturing. Hugs, holding, kisses, dancing, clasping hands, whatever. Demonstrated affection reinforces his security and gives him confidence as he navigates the bigger world. And I don’t have to tell you: One day he won’t be crawling into your lap for a snuggle anymore, and you’ll long for these days.

4. Correct anti-social behavior. Sorry, but it IS a parent’s job to discipline, which is simply a word that means “train and teach” (think “disciple”). It amazes me how many parents are remiss to say, “No” to their children, whether or not they use that actual word, which I often try to avoid. When and in what manner you discipline is up to you, of course, but for your child’s sake, at least do it. In our home, we sometimes use a little discomfort as a tool. When Elijah grabs my glasses, I snap his hand with my fingers, especially if I’ve already said no. When he kicks during a diaper change, he might get a little discomfort on his bottom. For many other things, discipline does not have to parent-inflicted. Life does it. I’ve not stopped the cat from scratching him after he has pulled her tail, for example. In considering what to correct, I often think, “Would this be socially acceptable if he were a young man?” While I’m treating my busy little guy like the CHILD he is, I remind myself I’m raising him to be a MAN.

5. Back to remember. Remember no childhood stage lasts forever. In another year, likely diapers will be making their exit. Two years, we’ll break out the preschool curricula again. I have found parenting is consistently difficult — and no respecter of persons or life situations — but there are some times parenting is more taxing than others. Busy-little-guy stage is one of  those times, but here’s to it not being all-out terrible.



Goshen News columnist Stephanie Price is a wife, mother, teacher, childbirth educator, midwife’s assistant and nursing student from Elkhart. Contact her at wholefamily@goshennews.com, 269-641-7249 or on Facebook at the page “Whole Family Column by Steph Price.”