Toddlers: Cute, Cuddly, Little Jerks

This past week, Mike and I were exhausted from Wilson's teething drama and accompanying miserable mood, not feeling well and laid near catatonic on the couch after putting him to bed. Mike lifted his head slightly to say to me, "Honey, I love Wilson more than life himself. But is it just me or is he a little jerk sometimes?" I sighed, "Yep. Yep, he certainly is." Although it sounds awful to say out loud, there is no other way to describe his behavior.

It's not that he is not sweet a lot of the time. He has the best smiles, he loves to hug and cuddle, he has an epic sense of humor, his laughs are contagious and he has become, in every sense of the word, my life. But, like the Force in Star Wars, he has a dark side. 

He bites, he pinches, he screams at the highest pitch possible even though he knows it shreds our ears, he laughs at you when you get hurt, he tries to hit the dogs and pull their tails, he likes to bang things together, rip pages out of books, steal my keys, bash things against the wall, make a ridiculous amount of noise, slam doors, play in the garbage, stomp his feet in anger, collapse screaming when he doesn't get his way, pick my shirt up to poke my belly fat and laugh maniacally, check to see how firm I am feeling about that "no" I just shouted, pull all the clothes out of the hamper, slap my face and pull my hair. And that was just today.

Yes, he is teething and miserable. Yes, he is challenged by his difficult temperament. Yes, he looks confused, frustrated and sincerely upset most of the time. He's not intentionally being a jerk. But it's hard to remember that when he leans down to bite me in the boob.

Is Wilson some freak toddler jerk of nature? Here's the worst part that most parents do not dare speak of their toddlers. THEY ARE ALL LIKE THIS. Once in awhile you get one that is calm, naturally empathic, sweet and kind. You won the freaking lottery. The rest act like a tiny drunk, slightly crazy uncle that you don't ever want to visit you. When I take Wilson to MyGym to play with other kids his age, it is clear that all of his little toddler friends are little jerks. They hate sharing, try to smack each other whenever possible; even when they are interested in each other, they poke each other in the face or pull each other's hair. There's a sweet-looking little girl that likes to throw other toddlers from her path if they are in her way of enjoying a toy she feels is hers. These children are selfish, mean and completely happy to grab a toy from any unsuspecting friend. The embarrassed parents do their best to keep other children safe from their own toddler's wrath when things do not go their way; you just tiredly nod in gratitude when they caught their own toddler's hand before it made contact with your toddler's face. These children are walking Freudian IDs; they have no reference for others' feelings because they haven't learned to do so yet.

Some don't ever learn this. I know many adults, albeit they do not actively participate in assault as readily as a toddler, that cannot handle their temper, have issues being empathic to others, are not kind nor compassionate. They trouble other people, hurt feelings and fail at personal relationships. And despite all of my training and education, it was during the moment that Mike and I lay near comatose on our couch, that I realized it: with the exception of children with special needs/mental health diagnoses, it was their parents that failed them and allowed them to grow up to be adult jerks.

This sucks. You have so much pressure as a parent. Add on top of that if that you fail, your kid is "that kid" - the kid that is mean, a bully, that hits others and has no understanding of respect. And hence is the hardest thing I have learned so far about parenting a toddler. Toddlers do not come with innate social and emotional skills. They do not understand how to treat others; they only know what they feel and what they want. They understand their own feelings of frustration, anger, intrigue, sadness, pain. Empathy is not within their comprehension since they barely understand that other people are separate from them. "Oh you tripped on my toy and almost fell on your head? That was hilarious because it did not hurt me! But not allowing me to play in the toilet makes me feel frustrated and upset. How could you, Mom? How could you?!!"

It is our job as parents to not only teach them how to act, but to MODEL how to act. We show them every day with our behavior what is appropriate, how to not be selfish, how to be kind and compassionate. It's not enough that we say "no" and provide guidance; we HAVE to model patience with them, even when they are frustrating us.

But this is so hard when you are dealing with a miniature frat boy. Try staying calm and compassionate when they throw their hands in their poop while you are changing their diaper. Or when they rip off the place-mat on the table, breaking a glass when you are all barefoot and have three dogs. Or rip your earrings out of your ears. Try calmly applying discipline when you get bitten on the butt, slapped in the face or have your hair pulled. Some days, I just focus on living moment to moment. I take a lot of deep breaths. I count the minutes before Mike gets home from school, thank God that Susi is coming over, pray that he sleeps longer in the mornings and hope that his teeth come in so he is less miserable before he learns how to wield weaponry. 

More than that I pray and hope that I can be strong. Strong enough to teach him how to be a good person, not with my words, but with my actions. No matter how obnoxious he is and no matter how I need to discipline him, I want him to see me being calm, patient, loving, kind and compassionate and always acting with his best interest at heart. I want him to be a good person, to think of others and to be successful in his life and to find true happiness, while always showing respect for himself, his family, his friends and his environment.

And more than anything, I want him to be a good father someday to a completely obnoxious toddler so he can call me and say, "How the heck did you not kill me?" And I will calmly say, "Sweetie, it was harder than escaping poverty, recovering from depression, graduating from Yale, going through a 50-hour labor, staying calm while being interviewed on live television and time managing 4 jobs, a marriage and a baby PUT TOGETHER. But if your father and I could do it, so can you."