Yesterday I was asked if I ever tell Felix "no." This person explained how they feel that children need clear boundaries, and then they can operate freely within those boundaries.
I don't disagree with having firm expectations and boundaries, but I also don't have a concise answer. Is he allowed to do whatever he wants? No. Do I tell him no? I try really hard not to...for a lot of reasons.
It isn't effective
It's not. How many toddlers do you know who comply gracefully when told not to do something? If they do eventually go along with it, it's usually because they were threatened with a time-out, spanking, or some other consequence, and they comply out of fear of what might be done to them if they don't. A simple, "Don't do that because it's the rule and I said so" is not, in itself, an effective parenting tool. It almost has to be accompanied by a threat (or an implied threat) to stop the behavior. But we don't threaten, punish, or bribe. Which brings me to...It doesn't align with our other parenting choices
Namely, that we don't impose punishments or consequences. Since 'no' often goes hand-in-hand with punishments, and we don't do punishments, telling Felix 'no' would lead us into a dead-end. We tell him no, he tells us no, and then we're stuck. We either have to back down and let him do it anyway, or forcibly make him stop by removing him from the situation, which will certainly trigger a massive tantrum.
It creates opposition and conflict
It pits us against each other and makes us adversaries, when we could be working together to solve the problem.
It invites a power struggle
Saying 'no' to a two year old is a direct challenge for them to do it anyway. If you tell them they can't do something, they will do it more to prove you wrong. Saying no to them is practically begging them to tell you no in return. Then you, as a parent, feel the need to regain the upper hand and prove that you are in control by forcing them to obey you. Imagine how shitty it feels when a toddler tells you no - it's insulting, it makes you feel angry and powerless. You probably think something along the lines of, "OOH no you don't" or "You do not get to tell me what to do." It feels exactly the same way to them.
It just doesn't work.
Felix is a very strong-willed kid. He's also two and a half. He's hard-wired at this developmental stage to resist me at every turn. He is in the process of discovering that he and I are two separate people (literally) and is experimenting with his newfound identity and the enormous power that accompanies that realization. An enormous power that is as terrifying as it is thrilling, which is a hallmark of toddlerhood - going from GET AWAY FROM ME I HATE YOU to mama hold me in .2 seconds flat.
I can't expect to say no without hearing it from him at least as often. Kids are little mirrors. They're those awful cosmetic mirrors, showing you all KINDS of shit you don't want to see. What you give out, they will give right back to you. If you are rude to them, expect them to be rude to you. If you sigh and roll your eyes when they spill a box of cereal, expect them to sigh and roll their eyes (or worse) when you ask them to clean it up. If you can't drop a task on a dime to come play a game with them, I wouldn't expect them to stop mid-play at your first call. If you mope and resist when they ask you to play a mind-numbing game for the millionth time that day, which is the most important thing in their world at that moment, I wouldn't expect them to gleefully skip to the dinner table right on time.
Saying 'no' is one of the best ways for toddlers to toy with their individuality and power. It's maddening, but it's a great thing. They're telling you that they are in control of themselves, not you. And it's true. Open any self-help book and turn to page 137; it will tell you that you cannot control the actions of other people, you can only control yourself. It applies to parents and children as well, because children are people, too. You cannot control them. You cannot force them to eat, sleep, or poop. You cannot control what they want, what they feel, how strongly they feel it, or how they express their feelings. You cannot force them to want to share or to feel sorry. You can bribe, goad, threaten, and cajole them into doing things you want most of the time, giving you the illusion of control, but they are their own person and they know it.
I think for a lot of people, maybe most people, parenting is mostly about discipline, and discipline is all about control. It's about how to make your kids do what you want them to do, when you tell them to do it. That's what discipline is, right? Do what I say. Except you cannot control the actions of other people. You just can't.
Instead of being a disciplinarian, a parent can be a mentor, a partner, and a guide to help them navigate a confusing world full of arbitrary cultural expectations that is still so, so, so new to them. With a slight shift in expectations and a bit of crawling around inside their brains, you can parent without punishments and parent-imposed consequences.
When there's no "or else," a beautiful thing happens. You have to get creative, and you have to start working together to solve the problem. You have to meet them on their level. You have to empathize and you have to reason. You have to ask why the behavior is there, and you have to address it at its root.
Here is what we do instead of saying 'no':
Don't sweat the small stuff
I try to let go of everything that is ultimately inconsequential, within the boundaries of my own authentic limits. That means that if he wants to do something messy, or kind of annoying, or inconvenient, I don't try to stop it. If I feel resistant to something that he's doing, I ask myself if it's worth the conflict; if it is hurtful, unkind, or unduly destructive; and whether I have the energy to try to re-focus him onto another activity. Sometimes I will recognize something as not being a very big deal, but I simply cannot handle it right in that moment; if I can't get myself to enjoy what is going on, then we change it.
A lot of parents probably think that I let Felix run pretty wild. In restaurants, we don't make him stay seated. At home, he stands on top of the table. He climbs our 4 foot step ladder while I fold laundry. I let him chew on the dog's bone. He almost always in some state of un-dress - usually completely naked at home, and when we're out he usually at least wants his shoes taken off. He's a supremely spirited little human; none of these things is rude or hurtful or unkind, so I let him do them. Although that isn't really the right phrase - it isn't that I'm letting him do them, because that would imply that I am always in control of his actions and he only does things that I explicitly allow. I enjoy that he is an iron-willed adventurer and knows exactly what he wants. If I were constantly trying to get him to "behave" it would be like breaking a wild animal. All of the traits that drive me crazy today will serve him very well as an adult. I'm not sure how people expect for kids to be submissive and obedient and quiet, but grow up to be free-thinking, box-busting leaders.
Say yes while still saying no
This is a tip I got from the Daily Groove, that took me a long time to really understand and put into practice. When you absolutely need to say no to something your child is doing, you can still say yes with your heart, energy, and attitude. There will be something that you can honor in what they are doing.
The first time I did this successfully, a flip switched and I felt so good about what had just transpired that I think I actually held up my fist in the middle of Whole Foods.
We have a recurring problem with Felix wanting to play in the food in the bulk bins. He hasn't consented to ride in the shopping cart for probably a year now (too much to explore!), so going to the grocery store is a massive lesson in patience. He is always wanting to stop and look at things, rearrange displays that have to be put back together, and I don't mind the snail pace, but dipping grubby hands into bulk bins is not okay.
One day, with the morning's Groove still in my mind, instead of hurrying him past the bins, I squatted down next to him and we explored them together. We opened the lid and pointed at what was inside, we talked about the color of the sun drops, we smelled the bin with the oats, scooped up almonds and dumped them back inside - we did everything with them except physically touch the food. It took a few minutes, but we got out of the aisle without any crying, which was a first.
Every time before, I would fear the bulk aisle and the second he went for a bin, I resisted and immediately tried to get him out of there as soon as possible. My resistance would cause him to dig in his heels as well. But as soon as I accepted and said yes to the situation - said yes to his interest in the bins, yes to his desire to explore them, yes to his curiosity - everything just flowed. Instead of fighting what he wanted to do, I guided him to do it in an appropriate way. It worked like a charm, and now that he's been able to explore the bins and they are no longer glitteringly forbidden, 95% of the time we can walk right by them, with him knowing that if he wanted to explore, he could.
Honor the impulse
This goes along with the above - if he's doing something unacceptable, I quickly try to re-direct his impulse to something acceptable. He hits the dog - unacceptable. But rather than assume he's just being a jerk, I try to interpret what was really going on. Usually, it's that he's trying to play with her and doesn't know that she isn't having just as much fun as he's having. So I join in and we play a different game with her, maybe involving tickling instead of hitting. If he's feeling bossy and hitting her because he's enjoying feeling big and powerful, then I try to turn that impulse into a game with me - maybe we start a pillow fight or I have him chase me while I cry, "No no no don't get me!"
The trick here is to avoid the urge to give the 'no' first. Instead of saying, "You may not spray me with the hose, but you may spray the windows," just say, "LET'S GO SPRAY THE WINDOWS!" Instead of, "Don't throw the rock at me, you may throw it at the bushes," simply, "Throw that way!" At two and a half, I think the time for explicit rules and lengthy explanations comes later. To him, a no followed by a yes is still a no, and still an invitation to prove me wrong.
Give information instead of a directive
This is something that I didn't think would work with Felix until later, but he actually responds really well to it. Rather than giving him a rule, I give him information - "Ouch, that hurts the chicken. She likes when you pet her." Or, "This cup is very full." It turns out that I don't always need to tell him explicitly to be gentle or careful, to use gentle hands or not run with the full cup. When I give him information and then let him infer what he needs to do (again, a skill I didn't think he would be capable of yet), it lets him develop his own sense of judgement, it lets him know that I trust him to make the decision. It tells him that I know that he already knows what to do.
Give space and time
After I make a request for Felix to do/not do something, and he refuses, I don't do anything for a minute or so. I wait patiently with the expectation that he will do it in his own time, now that he knows what is expected of him. It doesn't always work, of course, but a lot of times it does.
A great example happened just a few hours ago. Felix was playing with my knitting, winding himself up in the extra yarn. It started out fun, but pretty quickly it got out of hand and we had to stop the game. I said, "Okay, back on the table" and put the in-progress blanket on the table while he still held the yarn ball. He was still having fun and said, "No no no." I sat on the couch and looked at him expectantly, but didn't say anything else. Literally at the same moment that my husband said, "This is going to end badly," he walked up and dropped the yarn on the table.
It's a similar concept to giving information instead of a directive. What is implied is that you know they know what to do, and you know they'll do it. It gives them space to do it on their own terms and gives them some control and power over the situation.
Sometimes I make a request and then say, "I'll wait." "Put the ball down so we can leave. I'll wait." Of course, the caveat is that you have to sit back and wait in confidence that they will, in their own time, do what you asked. If you're sitting there sulking and sighing and thinking that it's never going to work, it won't.
Of course, nothing is ever as pretty as these little lists would have you believe. I have carried, and will carry again, a screaming child from the playground when he doesn't want to leave and none of my tactics have worked. I have abruptly ended, and will abruptly end again, a play date after he hits a friend in the face with a bubble wand and then refuses to let the friend touch anything in the house (sorry, Brock). He will want things he can't have. Conflicts are inevitable, and I don't always have the patience and the energy to deal with it gracefully. Tantrums are therapeutic, so even on the best of days there will be anguish over some terrible injustice.
But we approach conflict in the spirit of partnership, of collaborative problem solving, and can usually get through it while maintaining a connection rather than fueling opposition. The connection is the key. The more tuned in we are to one another, the more emotionally invested we are in each other, the easier it is to navigate, together, this big beautiful world of ours.
"I imagine that yes is the only living thing."
e.e.cummings
