I don’t really love writing about the super vulnerable parts of parenthood, like the brokenness and shame I felt after six months with my colicky first baby or the inexplicable rage and sadness I felt shortly after my second baby was born. But even more scary than baring my soul on the internet is the idea that other mamas might not see these parts of parenthood represented on this platform and wrongly assume that nobody else feels the way they feel. For me as a stay-at-home-mama isolation has always been the hardest part about parenthood these past 3.5 years and my goal is to talk about even / especially the hard stuff in order to help break down those barriers and make other mamas feel less alone.

So let’s talk about anger. I’m sure that none of us love it when we break down and yell at our kids. It happens in our house really, really rarely but of course there are days when I’ve been tested and depleted for days or weeks and something trivial pushes me over the edge. Growing up I assumed it was a parent’s job to keep their composure all the time but I know now that of course that’s not true. It was never our job to not have, or to hide all of our emotions. Since children learn how to regulate big emotions from their primary caregivers it’s actually extra important that they are able to see how we de-escalate from those big emotions of anger and exasperation that they will inevitably feel as well (this is also why we don’t do isolated time-outs in our house, but that’s probably a whole other post for another day).

Anyone who knows me even a little bit knows that while I communicate well I have a tendency to shut down and walk away when things get too overwhelming. This has led me to leave the room and take some time alone when my anger or frustration get the better of me, especially if I know that the kids are safe for a few minutes or if Tom’s off work and available to pick up the slack. I’m an introvert and need alone time, but it’s so, so hard to come by in these early years of motherhood when my kids’ emotional and physical needs are so high and unrelenting. So I’ve been focusing on staying in the room when I lose my composure. I make a point of talking through what I’m feeling so the kids can see why I’m upset and watch as I calm myself down; it’s important to me that they know that the big emotions they feel are valid, that everyone feels them, and that’s it’s possible to have self control when we’re ready to calm down again.

What does this look like in practice?

Last week after I had a rough, anxious, lonely week I yelled at Wells at dinner (don’t bother shaming me because you couldn’t possible make me feel more guilt and shame than I put on myself for it already). I had fiiiinally been feeling well enough to make a really nice meal and Wells threw the entire bowl on the ground as soon as we sat down. I shouted, dropped an expletive, and both Hen and Wells started to cry (my sensitive babies are not used to seeing their mama have an outburst). I instantly reined myself back and said “I’m sorry kiddos, I shouldn’t have yelled but mama is just feeling really frustrated today and I’m having a hard time. I’m gonna take a few big deep breaths and calm myself down, okay?” I took some deep breaths (while tearfully locking eyes with Tom) and Hennie breathed along with me. Then I repeated that I was upset but I shouldn’t have yelled, and I apologized again. Hennie kept telling me through her tears that it was “not nice to say dat mummy!” which broke my heart a little but two minutes later the kids were fine and eating their dinners (except for Wells, whose rice, salmon, and veggies remained on the floor). 

I know that this approach may not seem super revolutionary but I’m hoping that in the long run it leads to me kids being comfortable with their big emotions and not thinking that anger, sadness, and frustration are “bad” and should be hidden. My goal is to raise kids that feel comfortable coming to us with their emotions and I figure they won’t feel that way if they learn from us to run into another room and feel them alone.

As most parents with more than one child already know, children that come from the same parents can be so different. Wonderfully, shockingly so. Even though we may feel like we’re experienced parents who have been doing this for years, sometimes the youngest child can make us feel like we’re figuring stuff out all over again! This is the case these days with Wells. If you’re interested in hearing, let me tell you what’s been working for me when dealing with his recent bout of hitting.

First off, Hennie never hits. She’s never kicked us or thrown anything or done one thing that could be deemed worthy of ‘discipline’ by conventional norms. She’s no saint of course, her sass level is high even by my own standards, but she’s always been apprehensive and has responded very well to the boundaries we’ve laid out for her.  Wells is different. He pushes boundaries and tests us constantly. I’m so glad that he’s the one of our kids who is doing this because as a first-time anxious parent and more importantly, a colic survivor and new mama to a medically-complex child, I’m not sure if I would have been able to react to Hennie from a place of grace and learning like I have been able to react to Wells. Hennie’s first year was wrought with trauma for me and I was still working through those emotions in her second year. The way she responded so well to the few hard rules we introduced to her was a sigh of relief for my spirit, which desperately needed a break by way of an easy second year of motherhood. She was a timidly curious one-year-old and a sweet, complacent two-year-old.

These days Hen is definitely a “threenager” but that’s a story for another post. Lately my main worry has been this hitting problem popping up with Wells (who is almost 17 months old). I know that this is a normal and expected part of development, a testing of boundaries that all kids (except Hen) go through for a short or long period of time before they (hopefully!) grow out of it. My aim is to shorten the length of time that it’s a problem, mostly to preserve his newfound friendship with his timid and now skeptical big sister, but also to ensure that my kids learn to deal with their big emotions in a way that’s healthy.

Unfortunately, because I still have much un-learning to do, I responded to Wells’ first big hit in exactly the way I have now decided that I shouldn’t. I wasn’t expecting it and because I’d never had to deal with it before with Hennie I hadn’t yet decided how I wanted to respond. Surprised that he had done it and indignant on behalf of Hennie, I said “Wells, NO!” much too loudly and then threw out a vague and useless, “we don’t hit!” which I’m sure he found both upsetting and confusing – he was only trying something new, after all. He grew more agitated and immediately escalated to constant, spastic attacks. For a few days afterward it was awful; from that first bum change in the morning he was winding up that arm and Hennie couldn’t go anywhere near him. She would whimper fearfully when he came close (even though his attacks rarely landed and didn’t hurt) and begged me to carry her everywhere in the house (I did not do this).

As all of you know, I’m not a professional child behaviourist, an early childhood educator, or even a veteran mom so I’m just sharing what is working for me and Wells lately. You should do what fits into your worldview and is right for your family.

Rather than trying to ‘fix’ my toddler I’ve been trying to understand him a little better. Since he can’t communicate with words yet I figured hitting must be a way for him to communicate some big emotions he’s navigating. Since he is usually laughing and/or playing when it happens, I don’t think he is trying to communicate anger but some other feeling that he doesn’t know how to process because he’s, well, a one-year-old. Approaching his newfound penchant for hitting from a compassionate standpoint rather than anger or exasperation has worked wonders the past few weeks. Here’s what it looks like for us:

• I EMPATHIZE by treating his behaviour like a series of questions he’s asking. This has helped me to see things from his perspective. Toddlers his age are inquisitive and I imagine him wondering “what will happen if I do this? Is this allowed? What reaction will Mummy and Hennie have? Will I get the same reaction if I do it again? and again? and again? I know I’m not supposed to do this but I want to see if Mummy will still love me if I do it. I’m feeling agitated/ excited/ fearful and I want to see if this is the appropriate way for me to demonstrate these feelings.” Yes I know that he’s not really thinking those exact things but I do believe that his actions are a way for him to explore and ask questions about his environment and to gauge and learn from my response. He’s learning boundaries in a different way than Hennie learned boundaries at his age and that’s completely okay.
• I ACT, staying consistent and recognizing that his behaviour is not “bad” but developmentally appropriate. I meet him where he’s at. I get down on the ground with the kids and stay physically close to Wells so that I can intervene between him and his sister. If his arm comes up, I gently but firmly stop him from hitting.
• I SPEAK in a way that is straightforward and not confusing for him, abandoning the “we” and saying instead “I don’t want you to do that” before redirecting his attention elsewhere. For Hennie’s sake I usually recognize out loud that Wells is “still learning how to act and it’s our job to show him what’s okay and what’s not okay. Let’s tell him how much we love him.”
• I CONNECT and demonstrate calm by controlling my reaction if he continues. In order to show him that emotions are not bad, I allow him to feel however he’s feeling and I don’t shout, scold, or punish him by putting him in forced isolation (aka time-out) which I think would demonstrate to him that emotions are unacceptable and should be dealt with only by himself. I remind myself that a small child’s biggest fear is being separated or isolated from his parents so I offer him connection by making eye contact, keeping my voice calm, and offering hugs and cuddles.

This last part usually results in Wells sinking into my arms and calming right down, which shows me that maybe through his behaviour he’s looking for connection and reassurance all along. Again, this is just one mama’s experience but it’s working for me! I feel like increased connection and being present is probably the antidote to most of the difficulties we face in these early years. Have you dealt with a toddler who hits? What have you found that has worked for you?