What to Expect the Toddler Years (124 page)

But for most parents, the message is clear: milk’s okay.

“Our son really concentrates on his play, which is great sometimes but annoying at other times, like when I need him to take a bath, or eat a meal, or go out, and I can’t pull him away from what he’s doing.”

Do you enjoy being interrupted in the middle of a good book? Or an engrossing TV movie? Or even a pile of pressing paperwork? Well, your toddler probably feels much the same about being interrupted in the middle of what he’s doing. To someone completely absorbed in erecting a monumental block skyscraper, or caring for sick teddy bears, or lining up cars for an exciting race, disruptions (“Time for the tub!”) can be irritating and intrusive. And unlike adults, who are generally able to put that book (or that movie, or those papers) on the back burner when obligations call, toddlers have a tough time separating from their interests and pursuits. Partly because they’re not yet very good at making transitions and partly because they have not yet developed much self-discipline or a sense of time.

Since your toddler clearly has his own agenda—no less significant to him than yours is to you—you’ll need to figure out how to deal with the inevitable conflicts:

Give him fair warning. Descending on your busy toddler with demands that he stop for lunch or his bath “right now” is both unfair and destined for failure. Instead, start issuing periodic bulletins so that he has time to adjust:
First,
“It’s almost time to stop for lunch.”
Then,
“In five minutes, your spaghetti will be ready.” (Setting a timer at this point will make the time frame more tangible.)
And, finally,
“Okay, time to eat.”

Let him finish what he’s started. If you haven’t given fair warning, and it’s possible to wait a few minutes, let your toddler put the finishing touches on that skyscraper, wrap up that race, complete that puzzle. Offer to help him, if he’d like. Show respect for your toddler’s agenda and he will be more likely to cooperate with yours. Again, use a timer to set a tangible time limit.

Combine agendas, when feasible, so your toddler won’t have to switch gears entirely. Suggest, for example, that he bring his cars into the bath with him, so he can scrub them down while you scrub him down. (This will only be feasible if the toys are waterproof; those that aren’t can “watch” from the bathroom vanity.) Or have him put his blocks or sick teddies to bed before he’s tucked in. Or, assuming it’s portable, let him take what he’s playing with, or a part of it, along for the ride to the market.

Make the transition together. The change from one activity to another will be less jarring if you ease into it together. To do this, first get involved—at least, as a spectator—in your toddler’s activity. Watch the race, and cheer on your favorite car. Check that flu-ridden teddy’s temperature. Begin constructing
a tower down the street from his skyscraper. Then, when it’s time to stop, you can quit together. You can even grumble a bit, “I wish we didn’t have to stop now, we’re having so much fun. But it’s time for lunch.”

Be patient to a point. If you gave your toddler fair warning, tried easing him through a transition, and he still won’t budge, calmly but firmly let him know that the time has come to stop what he’s doing and start doing what you’ve asked. If necessary, physically move him from where he is to where you want him to be.

Once in a while, when it’s reasonable, bend
your
agenda. If your toddler’s completely immersed in an activity and a planned trip to the market can be postponed, consider postponing it. If lunch can be rewarmed, let it wait until he’s done. Then hope that some of your flexibility will rub off on him.

“Our toddler is always too busy to sit still for meals. And when we force her to sit down with us, she tries to get up again within a few minutes.”

Forget salami and eggs, pizza with the works, a chili dog at the corner snack bar. Nothing brings on indigestion faster than mealtime with an active toddler. You beg, you plead, you nag, you scold to get her seated at the table, and no sooner do you succeed than she’s wriggling out of her seat. The scene plays itself out again and again. She’s up, she’s down. She’s up, she’s down. By the time she’s had a few perfunctory bites, the food is cold and your stomach is churning.

If this mealtime scenario appears hopeless, that’s only because, for the moment, it probably is. Given most toddlers’ low tolerance for long stretches of sitting, expecting your child to sit down—and stay down—for meals with the family is unrealistic. Demanding it is likely to turn the table into a combat zone. And though an occasional skirmish may be won, chances are victory will be at the expense of everyone’s enjoyment and digestive comfort.

Instead, take steps to make family mealtime more appealing to and more pleasant for your toddler:

Consider a seating change. Whatever her present seat, changing it may help (see page 149).

Keep the conversation flowing in her direction. Adult talk can be boring to a toddler and leave her feeling left out, so postpone it until she’s left the table. Hold her attention (and her presence) with toddler-engaging conversation. (But stay off the subject of her eating—or not eating.) When conversation stalls, try a word game, such as “What Do You See?” (Everyone at the table takes turns pointing to and naming something they see.)

Nix the nagging. Don’t nag about your toddler’s eating or her unwillingness to stay seated.