Daniel just had his second birthday, but since he's so advanced :~o we've experienced waves of his Two-ness for quite a while now. It started with a few good fits of frustration when a toy (or a person) wouldn't cooperate. Then it was a very calm, polite "nono nonono." Now, no matter what the question, the answer is immediate. "No Quer." (Translation: "I don't want to/I don't want it.")
"Do you want to eat lunch now?"
"No Quer."
"Do you want to get a clean diaper?"
"No Quer."
"Do you want a cookie?"
"No Quer." That one always trips him up, and upon further thought, he changes his mind.
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Limits and boundaries are really hard for on who's just realizing
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Food Wars
His Two-ness thinks: I can feed myself quite independently now. I know what I like. No matter how much my people want me to eat, I can't be forced.
One night Will fixed pasta with Alfredo Sauce. Pasta of any kind is usually a homerun--Mac 'n Cheese, noodles, elbows, rotinis, shells, bow ties. Milk is always a hit. And cheese? Yum with no hesitation. However (comma) . . . this night's conversation went something like this.
"Here's some pasta Daniel."
Pause "No Quer."
"See? It's pasta with a yummy sauce with milk and cheese in it."
Pause "No Quer." Pause "I want the orange pasta?"
"This is the orange pasta. See?"
Pause "I want the clean pasta."
Sent to the Principal
Cecilia picked up Daniel from Mother's Day Out one day and was greeted by his teacher, a stern-faced Ms. Charlotte. Not only had he refused to nap, but the rebel had also become a disturbance for other compliant classmates when he wouldn't stay on his mat as instructed. Ms. Charlotte reported that she had to remove Daniel from class to sit in the Director's office. After embarrassing apologies to his teacher, Cecilia made a beeline to the office of Ms. Elaine, Director. (BTW Daniel and Ms. Elaine are charter member of their own Mutual Admiration Society.) Instead of detention, D had crayons, stickers, paper, and a pleasant hour of conversation. Sometimes it pays to be non-compliant!
Choices
Looking back, there were times when I regretted naming Daniel's father Will. Iron Will. He was strong-willed with enough chunkiness by the time he turned two that I had to figure out alternate strategies to circumvent his Two-ness. Either that or keep a good chiropractor on retainer for all the times I was lifting a contorting screamer into his carseat. We did actually have his hearing checked at one point, because I wanted to make sure we weren't dealing with what seemed an obvious deficit in communication.
Every Two likes choices, right? So here's the choice, Will. You're going to get in your carseat. Do you want me to put you in, or do you want to do it yourself? What Two doesn't want to do it himself?!
I'm using the same strategy with Little Man.
Face to face, in a calm assertive voice, I say, "Daniel, look at GiGi. It's time to wash your hands for lunch. Do you want to wash in GiGi's sink or Daniel's sink?"
Pause Avoidance I'll play with these cars while I consider . . . is this a trick question?
Again, I repeat the same question in the same way.
After another long pause, D answers in his signature question mode. "GiGi's sink?"
And off we go, fit-free.
Time To Put the Toys Away
That little motivational song no longer works!
One day my buddy and I were tossing some stones on a path outside. It was time to collect them and I invited Daniel to help. After depositing one stone in the bucket, he sat down to observe all the apparent fun I was having. I picked up "one, two, three rocks," and D leaned back on his hands. "Good job, GiGi!" he said with a cheery smile.
Cecilia told me that when it was time to pick up toys yesterday, she recruited Little Man to help. She encouraged him to no avail. In fact he climbed up on the couch to watch her work. When she repeated her instructions, Two said, "Daniel sit on sofa. Mamae clean." (Here's where the choices were offered!) Cecilia stated the options; (1) pick up the toys or (2) sit in the time-out chair. The Smart Kid chose option #1.
PS--Bible Study teacher Beth Moore is certain that God created His most challenging children to be the cutest. It's her theory that their sweet faces, chubby arms, and dimpled knees are God's protection. After all, who could stay mad at all that cuteness?
PPS--And for the record, I never wished that Will would have one just like him. I was too busy strategizing how to stay a step ahead.
Direct your children onto the right path,
and when they are older, they will not leave it.
Proverbs 22:6
New Living Translation
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