something wicked this way comes

Woah woah woah! Wait a minute there, buddy. Where did that come from?!

One minute he’s an adorable toddler who watches Sesame Street, trips over his own feet, dances without a care in the world, and repeats everything that you say with the cutest toddler-lisp. . . and then all of a sudden that sweet little thing has left the warehouse through the door marked 'EXIT HAPPY CHILD' and is replaced by an irritable, growling, bull-headed, menacing miniature tornado that came in through the door marked 'ENTER HOLY TERROR'. It’s an F5-class tornado. An F6, if there is such a thing.

My brothers tell me that the same thing happened at their own houses when their charming little balls of joy left the building around the same age. This exodus of reason and innocence, I am told, marks the official start of the terrible-twos. They say that during the coming year you will expend more energy screaming phrases such as “no”, “stop that”, and “let that cat out of the toilet RIGHT NOW” than you will saying things like “Hey beer here!” or “Wassup”. Your vocabulary will be rife with words that your little tornado really shouldn't be exposed to, and of course those will be the only words your tornado will choose to repeat.

How about that? Awesome. Super.


I did some internet research when I happened upon Dr. Greene [www.drgreene.com] who has this to say about my problem:

It is unpleasant to have anyone passionately disagree with you. When this opposition comes from your own little delight, the situation is decidedly disagreeable. Many people call this important phase of development the "Terrible Twos." I prefer to call it "The First Adolescence."

I prefer to call it “This Sucks”. And I like the way he calls the tornado a “little delight”.

The hallmark of this stage is oppositional behavior. Our wonderful children instinctively want to do exactly the opposite of what we want. We have nice, reasonable expectations and they say, "NO!" or they simply dissolve into tears. Suppose you have some place to get to in a hurry. Your son has been in a great mood all day. . . until you say, "I need you to get into the car right now." He will, of course, want to do anything except get into the car.

Or, if it he is anything like my son, he will want to slap the car in the face and tell it “no” until the car just can’t take it anymore and runs away with his cat to hide in the basement and watch college basketball.

As if this weren't enough, children in this phase of development have a great deal of difficulty making the choices they so desperately want to make. You ask your child what he would like for dinner, and he says macaroni. You lovingly prepare it for him, and then as soon as it's made he says, "I don't want that!" It is perfectly normal for him to reverse a decision as soon as he has made it, because at this stage, he even disagrees with himself.

Oh, great. You’re telling me he won’t even agree with himself? What?! How is that possible? So, not only have our “little delights” left the building, but they’ve left us with a schizophrenic tornado with an inner struggle?

His task is to gain skill at making appropriate choices. To help him accomplish this, offer your son limited choices at every opportunity. Two or three options generally works best. Make sure the choices you offer fall within an appropriate agenda. Your son still needs the security of knowing that he's not calling all the shots. When it's time to eat, say something like, "Would you rather have a slice of apple or a banana?"

And what do I do when he chooses the apple, takes a bite out of it, spits it on the table and throws the remainder of the apple at the cat? Should I offer him to either: a) pick up the apple and put it in the garbage, b) take the banana instead, or c) throw the cat at the remainder of the apple.

I like to think of the process as similar to childbirth. Labor is a very intense experience. Pain, after pain, after pain eventually produces something beautiful-- a child is born. The episodes of oppositional behavior in "First Adolescence" are psychological labor pains -- one difficult situation, then another, and another, and as a result your son's own persona is being born psychologically. This is a beautiful (but difficult) time with a truly worthwhile result.

I thought the whole advantage with being a man was that we didn’t have to experience labor pains. I thought that was the trade-off women made at the beginning of time - they chose to have stunningly hot features and all sorts of cool biological gadgets in exchange for growing babies in their womb, while men chose a more streamlined version of the female model in exchange for superior mental capabilities.


I’m probably making Ben out to be the worst-behaved toddler on the block. He’s not. Probably not even close. I think Anna and I have been doing a decent job maintaining a happy, disciplined household so far. But when Ben starts rejecting even the fun little events that we used to enjoy together (saying “yo” and bumping fists, for instance), it makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong.

Maybe someone else besides the venerable Dr. Greene can help me out here. Is it okay to verbally abuse my child? What would be considered going too far? If I yell louder than my son, will he acquiesce? Will he respond to Twinkies and chocolate milk? Is it too soon to consider military school? Is there a way to de-program the word “no” from his mind? Is there a simple way we can board up the “HOLY TERROR” door and keep the crazies out? Surely someone must know.