Blowing Up the Balloon

An old picture, but you get the idea

It's been my experience so far with this parenting thing that everything happens in phases.  There are periods of peaceful calm when we have an easy routine, the house stays clean, I make forward progress on a hobby or project, dinner is planned ahead, and everyone is generally happy.  Then there are times, like right now, when the slightest tasks are impossible, laundry piles up, dinner is ordered in, money is stressed over, and I consider selling my child on the black market.*

Sometimes the chaotic phases are brief and coincide with Felix teething or a general uptick in our social obligations and disruption of our routine.  Most of the time though, it has to do with him having some kind of developmental growth spurt.  It's suddenly impossible to make him happy, he's hellbent on doing the one and only activity that you've forbid him to do, and any alterations to make it an acceptable activity (like moving outside so he can pour water out of the cup) are vehemently rejected. He suddenly, overnight, becomes more aware of his own limitations and does NOT like it.  I empty my bag of tricks until nothing is left, then chaos ensues while I scramble to refill it through a comedic sideshow of trial and error and tears.


It's the same thing every time, with increasing intensity.  He's met with a new set of obstacles and limitations, wanting to do things he just can't quite do yet, and can't cope with it.  In his first year those times usually preceded an obvious developmental leap - like being frustrated at not being mobile, which eased once he could walk well - but now it's more subtle and I can't just tell myself that it will ease up when he reaches the next stone, because I don't know what that stone is.

I'm sure someone has articulated this better before, but in my head I've always pictured him blowing up a balloon.  When he has paused to inhale are the peaceful times, when I've caught up with him and we're in synch, I know what's going to set him off and what will re-center him.  I can anticipate how to avoid making him upset and can keep him happy and entertained.  Then when he's blowing up the balloon in one quick, sharp exhale, we're all just lost for a while.  Sleep patterns change, a simple nursing session won't do the trick anymore, toys are worthless, he doesn't want my help but can't do it himself, and I feel very far from him.

Today we went to the grocery store; nothing out of the ordinary there.  I should have just gone back to the car when he kicked and screamed when I tried to put him in the car (he hasn't consented to being worn in quite a while, so I didn't even have a sling with me to try).  I coaxed him in by offering a piece of beef jerky and set about getting the trip over with.  It took ages to get through the produce section because he wanted to put everything in the bags himself, and would screech to the point of drawing stares if I did it myself.  Every five seconds, as we passed another colorful display, he would shriek and hold his arms out towards it, threatening an epic meltdown if he couldn't have that mango, or that lime, or that onion.  I ended up speeding through, hardly noticing what I was putting in the cart, just wanting to get the hell out.  At the checkout he delighted in throwing everything within his grasp on the ground, mostly Cds (who sells CDs at a grocery store checkout?) and magazines.  I might as well have seared him with a branding iron by the way he reacted when I turned the shampoo bottle he was holding so the clerk could scan it.

As I read that over, I realize it's unimpressive.  That's completely normal toddler behavior, and I know that.  It's just so different from our up-to-now normal that I was unprepared.  Usually going to the store is really easy - Felix is such a people person that he spends the whole time jabbering at strangers, and as long as we keep the cart moving and people keep paying attention to him, he's content.

He's definitely going through a leap of gaining new skills right now and his cognition is exploding.  Lately, he's learned to drink from an adult cup without help, and is displeased with our attempts to have him drink from a sippy.  I don't mind cleaning up accidental spillage, but he likes to take a sip or two and then dump the rest out.  If I try to only put a little bit of water in the cup, he looks in it, then holds it back up to me for more until he's satisfied with the amount.

He is becoming very specific with his wants, and our old distraction/substitution tricks don't work anymore.  Last week he sat down in my lap with a pair of socks, wanting me to put them on.  Normal. I put them on, and he kicked his feet a couple of times, so I took them off.  EPIC meltdown.  When he calmed down, he wanted me to put them on again.  Then the same kicking, point to his feet, tugging on the toe of the sock.  He definitely wanted me to do something to them.  Put on shoes too?  No.  Put on more socks?  No.  Finally I figured out that he wanted me to just partially take off the sock down to his heel so that HE could take it the rest of the way off.

He's learning how to throw really good tantrums - I mean really tantrum, not just cry.  Full body convulsions, kicking, hitting.  It's worth mentioning that Felix has a set of pipes on him.  He is LOUD.  He goes from zero to sixty so fast that if we're in public, it isn't unusual for other people to think he hurt himself.  People will also say, "Oh, what's wrong?" when he has made a noise that doesn't even register to me.

I read a while back that 14-18 months is a really challenging phase, and now I get why.  This latest round of frustration is I'm sure due mostly to his extremely limited ability to communicate.  Usually I can figure out what he wants, but like with the sock thing, I don't always get it.  And then there are times when I do get it, but the answer is no, and he can't understand that.  I do my best to avoid saying no, but it's completely impossible to say yes to everything.  No, you can't carry my full, breakable glass of water around on the hardwood floor (relatedly, on my to-do list this week is to buy non-breakable dinnerware).  No, you can't drink from that other child's sippy cup.  No, you can't eat that cigarette butt.

While we get through this next week or two as we adapt to him blowing up the balloon, I'm considering all but the most necessary of chores shelved.  It helps to ease up on my expectations and just focus on figuring him out.  The unfortunate part of that is that I still have to keep everything put away, because a huge source of his frustration is having something in his sight that he can't play with. "If it isn't for play, put it away."  Kind of corny, and I can't remember where I read it, but definitely a good rule for a happier home.

Thankfully, I have an ever-supportive husband who suggests that I do less even during the easy phases, and is happy to pick up slack.  John, if you read this, you and Felix have a back yard date when you get home, and there's laundry to fold and put away after dinner.

And I'm probably going to eat all of the macaroons.

*I haven't actually considered selling my child on the black market.