Parenting small children can be a Sisyphean grind, except Sisyphus is half your size, naked, and screaming for you to carry the boulder up the hill for him.
Getting little kids to do even the simplest of things can be near impossible.
You think you’d have the advantage, right? You’re the adult. You’ve got years of experience, a bigger vocabulary, and actual logic. But no. You’re not just battling their stubbornness; you’re dealing with the chaotic energy of someone who finds it hilarious to scream the word “butt” at random intervals.
Take leaving the house. No, it can’t be simple. Your child has just thrown themselves on the floor like an overdramatic Shakespearean actor who’s just learned the queen is dead. You promise everything: ice cream, a new toy, a personal visit from Elsa herself, and yet, they refuse to move. Now you’re going to be late. You’re always late. You haven’t been on time to anything since the baby shower. And when you do finally manage to get them into the car? They chime in with, “I have to go potty.”
So you look for advice. Unfortunately, parenting advice is like a middle-aged man’s ponytail: theoretically functional but mostly just sad and confusing. The tips you get are never scientific or practical. “Always stay calm with your child.” Right. Being calm is a luxury reserved for people who don’t regularly get headbutted by someone wearing a Spider-Man onesie.
Well, today you’ll get some insight from experts. And the key idea they want you to remember is autonomy. Nobody likes being told what to do. You don’t like it, I don’t like it, and kids? Oh, kids really don’t like it. They just haven’t learned to mask their rebellion behind passive-aggressive emails yet.
The book we’ll be drawing from is, “How to Talk so Little Kids Will Listen: A Survival Guide to Life with Children Ages 2-7.”
Let’s get to it…
Okay, you tried to get your kid to pick up their toys and now they’re shrieking like you just used their college fund to buy scratch-off lottery tickets. At this point, you feel less like a parent and more like a disaster relief worker.
What to do?
Before anything else, ask yourself: Is it hunger? Is it tiredness? Is it overstimulation?
If the answer is “yes” to any of these, address that first.
You can read all the parenting books, memorize the Montessori-approved mantras, and whisper affirmations into your bathroom mirror every morning, but none of that will matter if your small, barely domesticated human is hungry, sleepy or totally overwhelmed. You have to go full Maslow on this one: satisfy the basic needs first.
(To learn how to make your baby smarter, click here.)
Are they still freaking out? Okay, then it’s not biology. What’s next?
Don’t make threats. To someone (even a tiny someone) who feels their autonomy is being challenged, a threat can sound like a dare.
Start off with, “If you don’t put your toys away, I’m throwing them out,” and they’ll look at you with a face that says, “This is going to be a long, painful evening for both of us, and I am fully prepared to scream until you consider joining the French Foreign Legion.”
Instead, acknowledge their feelings. I know, I know: it sounds corny. But if you skip the feelings part, you’re setting the stage for a Level 5 Meltdown, the kind of operatic, full-body despair that makes you question whether anyone should be reproducing.
Just try to relate to them:
“It isn’t easy to get out of a warm, cozy bed. It’s nice to snuggle for a few more minutes.”
Suddenly, the child who was about to make you their nemesis has a moment of pause: “Huh? You actually get it? You understand?”
You’re not just the monster who insists they put on shoes… you’re a fellow snuggler who wishes the day would start at noon. And there you are, suddenly united against the tyranny of mornings.
(To learn how to handle teenagers, click here.)
No, it’s not always going to be that simple. So how else can we get kids to do things?
Make the task seem fun so they actually want to do it…
Instead of saying, “Put your clothes in the laundry basket,” try, “Uh-oh, the clothes monsters have taken over! Quick, throw them in the basket before they eat the couch!” Often, a kid will go from uninterested to action hero in under two seconds.
Yes, it’s ridiculous. But if pretending that a fork has abandonment issues gets them to clear the dinner table, who cares?
Now, let’s be clear: this isn’t just regular parenting. This is acting. You have to really sell it. Your voice needs to be laced with the same seriousness as someone who just found a gas leak in the kitchen. You have to commit. (No, it’s not dignified, but dignity went out the window the moment you found yourself wiping butts to the tune of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”)
What if you can’t come up with a good fantasy scenario?
Then turn it into a challenge or a game. It’s not “putting on shoes”; it’s “The Great Race to See Who Can Put Shoes On Faster!” It’s not “put on your big coat”; it’s the “Winter Warrior Challenge.” You’re no longer a parent. You’re a host on the world’s least exciting game show, yelling, “WHO CAN GET TO THE CAR FASTER?!”
The best part? If you pretend things are fun, often they actually end up being fun.
(For parenting tips from ancient traditions, click here.)
But what if your child’s autonomy needs are extreme? Well, we can work with that too…
You haven’t slept properly in months, meanwhile they wake up at dawn every day, bright-eyed, asking whether tarantulas have to go to school. So let’s discuss bedtime, a.k.a. “The Forever War.” Bedtime is the ultimate boss level of parenting.
You can’t just tell them it’s time for bed. That’s for rookies. No, you give them a choice. And not a real choice, mind you, but a carefully constructed false binary:
“Do you want the dinosaur pajamas or the fire truck pajamas?”
Now they’re too busy pondering the relative merits of prehistoric creatures vs. emergency vehicles to even notice they’re being herded toward the inevitable.
Whatever you need them to do, don’t say the standard triggering phrase. Instead, like any good huckster, assume the sale and offer a choice:
“Do you want to hop to the car like a bunny or waddle like a duck?”
(To learn how to be an emotionally intelligent parent, click here.)
And what if none of this works? Then we may have to resort to logic…
You’re in the Target parking lot, and they’re losing their mind because you want to hold their hand. Of course, you can’t just say, “Hold my hand so you don’t get flattened by a Subaru,” because they’ll respond with the toddler equivalent of “You’re not the boss of me.”
Here’s the four-step process to whip out:
Step One: Acknowledge Feelings
“You don’t like your hand held in the parking lot. It makes your fingers feel squeezed.”
As if “squeezed fingers” is the most pressing concern, and not, you know, death by Ford Explorer.
Step Two: Describe The Problem
Take a deep breath and say, “The problem is, I worry about cars hitting children in the parking lot.”
This is you, a grown adult, calmly explaining the laws of physics to someone who once insisted that shadows can be caught.
Step Three: Ask For Ideas
“We need some ideas so we can go back to the park and have fun. What should we do?”
Of course, the suggestions that follow are straight from the depths of crazy town. “What if I fly like Superman over the cars?” Just nod along because, hey, we’re spitballing here.
Step Four: Decide Which Ideas You Both Like
At this point, you’re choosing the least ridiculous suggestion that doesn’t involve teleportation. Eventually, one idea surfaces that’s both sane and achievable: “What if I hold your sleeve?”
Agree, smile, and get on with your life.
(To learn the 5 things neuroscience says will make you an awesome parent, click here.)
Okay, we’ve covered a lot. Time to round it all up and learn a few magic words that can make this whole process much easier…
Here’s how to be an awesome parent…
And what simple wording changes can help you reduce conflict and get them to do what you need?
Will the above work miracles? Of course not. There will still be tantrums, weird demands, and that one recurring argument over why they can’t wear a swimsuit to preschool in February.
But once you’ve got a few strategies up your sleeve, you’ll be less stressed. You stop feeling like a harried tour guide for the world’s worst field trip and start to feel like an actual parent. One who might even be enjoying the company of this little person who can be, when not possessed by the spirit of chaos, kind of delightful.
Yes, they can be terrors. But then, out of the blue, they’ll say something like, “I love you more than stars.” And you melt.
When you know what to do during the tough times, it’s easier to focus on the good times. And there are so many good times.
The moments that make you wonder how you ever lived without someone asking you questions like, “Do sharks have birthdays?”