This is the newest game that Bean and Chris have started playing. Every night while we’re making dinner, Chris and Bean back up to different sides of the kitchen and then run straight towards each other and right at the last minute before they collide, Chris jumps over Bean. Then they both fall down laughing. Apparently, it’s the greatest thrill in life. Right there in our kitchen.

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Looking at this picture, you’d probably never guess that about 2 seconds after it was taken Bean had a complete and total meltdown right there on the kitchen floor because I told him he couldn’t have a cookie since we were about to sit down to dinner.

Episodes like this are becoming more and more frequent in our little household and, quite frankly, they are so annoying! Bean seems to have a perpetual case of PMS. He can go from happy and excited to devastated and unhinged in about 2.5 seconds flat. And usually, the devastated and unhinged part involves rolling around on the floor, wailing. But then, in about 2.5 seconds flat again, he’s back up and happy and into something new.

At first, I was thinking these were directly related to him being tired. But then it started happening during times when he was, clearly, not tired. Like, in the middle of a perfectly sunny, happy, family, fun-filled afternoon. Or, in the middle of the grocery store at 10:00 in the morning. At those times, it was hard to blame it on anything else. It just confirmed our worst nightmares.

(cue the Jaws theme song)

We were entering the dreaded Terrible Two’s.

(cue a blood curdling scream)

In the past couple weeks, it has become obvious and distinct. These are terrible two temper tantrums. How do I know this? Because even though they appear to be irrational and illogical in nature, I’m actually starting to notice a pattern to these little fits and can even see what the triggers are for Bean. Almost every one of his temper tantrums is prompted by one of two things. Either he can’t do something he wants to do or he gets in trouble.

Bean hates to stop doing something when he’s having fun. But sometimes it happens. For example, throwing golf balls at the dogs. It just can’t happen. It’s fun for no one except Bean, who happens to think this is the MOST fun. But when we ask him to stop and he doesn’t, we then have to take his golf balls away. And the temper tantrum commences. He flings himself on the floor and begins dramatically crying. When this happens, Chris and I simply step over and/or around him and go on with our business. When he’s flung himself out and rolled to the far regions of our house and has finally somewhat composed himself, we start playing with him again and life goes on.

The second thing that prompts the temper tantrums is harder to deal with. In a nutshell, Bean hates to get in trouble. Hates it. He can’t stand when Chris or I are mad at him. It gets him all bent out of shape. So, when we take something away from him or correct a behavior, what starts as a simple, “No, Bean,” quickly becomes an Oscar-worthy meltdown. Most of the time, he’s not even in trouble. It’s just a little correction or reminder of the rules. But to Bean, we might as well have told him that we don’t love him anymore and that Santa isn’t real. In these times, we try not to go too hard on Bean.

But the hardest part about Bean’s temper tantrums is the newest part of them. In the past two or three weeks, they have started to involve hitting, kicking, and throwing. Bean gets so angry and frustrated that he throws whatever it is that he has in his hand. So, we make him to right over and pick it up because “we do not throw.” But the minute we make him go pick whatever he threw up, he starts swinging at us. Which results in a time out, where he sits and kicks his feet at anyone as they walk by.

Describing that behavior is really embarrassing, actually. It sounds like I’m raising a hell child and I hope as you read this you don’t get some horrible image of Bean. I’m a big believer that temper tantrums are not the personality of the child. I really think they are caused by something, the result of something, a response to something. Bean’s acting out is an inability to communicate some emotion or thought. So, while I understand what he’s going through, I don’t excuse that behavior. The goal then becomes teaching and disciplining without driving him further down the path of frustration.

IT’S SO FREAKING HARD!!!

So far, the best we’ve come up with is the walk away and the return. It goes like this: When Bean starts hitting and/or kicking, Chris or I get right down to his level, right up to his face, and we firmly say, “We do NOT hit, Michael.” And then, we walk away if he’s already in time out or we put him in time out if he isn’t already there. Without fail, this causes an epic breakdown for Bean. As much as I don’t like that behavior, I really, really don’t like the epic meltdown. It breaks my heart to hear Bean cry like that because there’s heartbreak in his little cry when he’s gotten in trouble.

When Bean calms down a little bit and we can actually speak to him, we do the return part. We go back over to him, give him a hug, and let him cry on our shoulders for a bit. And then we say to him again that hitting or kicking it not allowed and we ask him to say he’s sorry. When he does, we hug him, tell him he’s a big boy and that we love him, and then we go find something fun to do.

It’s times like these in parenting when I feel really unsure of myself. Sure, I occasionally read parenting books and articles. And I read other parent’s blogs. And, naturally, I rely on what I learn from my own childhood and my own parents. But none of those things prepare you for being the one in the driver’s seat when it comes to disciplining your own child. They might give you ideas and methods and styles that you can use. But when you’re staring at the fruit of your womb acting like a little turd which is immediately followed 3 seconds later by him feeling unloved by his own parents, well, quite frankly, you just want to throw parenting books at those helpful people because they aren’t the ones who have to make judgment calls right there in your kitchen.

So far, the best Chris and I have figured out how to do is stay united. We don’t do the good parent/bad parent thing. Whoever begins a specific discipline moment, ends it. Like tonight when Bean was throwing golf balls at the dogs and I took the golf ball away, Bean went crying to Chris who sent him right back to me. And the only other thing we’ve figured out and feel confident in is that our #1 job is to let Bean know that we love him, whether he’s right or wrong, whether we’re laughing or crying, whether we’re playing or sitting in time out. Punishment in our house will always come from a place of love. Other than those two things, I’m learning that discipline in parenting is, like most other aspects of parenting, trial and error.

When I was growing up, my parents seemed like old pros. Professional Parents. They just seemed to naturally have all the right answers and know how to handle every situation my sister and I threw at them. But what I’m learning is that more than likely, they stood in our kitchen handing out the discipline and punishments, and then went into their bedroom, shut the door, and said to each other, “We did the right thing, right???”

Because that’s what parenting is, I’m learning. It’s doing the best you can and keeping your child’s well being at the center of every decision you make.

27  comments   |   posted in About Beanie, Angry Bean, discipline, parenting, The Romper Room, Toddlerhood, What I've Learned   |   tags: life, parenting, terrible two's, toddlers


A few weeks ago, I was asked on the Q&A page about our discipline methods and philosophy for Bean at this age.  I had to actually stop and think about it for a while and then I kind of panicked.

Did we discipline?  Were we supposed to be disciplining?

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So, I panicked about that for a few days but finally came to the consensus that maybe that was okay.  Maybe that’s how discipline (at Bean’s age, at least) is supposed to be – such a natural part of your interactions that you don’t even notice it after a while.  That actually kind of sums up mine and Chris’s philosophy on discipline overall.  You stick to your rules and enforce them consistently and effectively and before you know it, the habit of good choices has formed in your child.  Ideally, I think discipline should feel effortless and natural and not some big production.

Now, having said all of that and wrapped it up nicely with a bow, it sure doesn’t feel effortless and natural all the time.  Some days, Bean drives me up the wall.  Some days I feel like all I do is say, “Not for Bean!” (thank you, Mindee…) or “No, Bean,” or “Put that down, Bean.”  But really, that’s more like correcting behavior to me.  That’s giving instructions.  That’s not discipline.  To me the difference is that discipline is punishment for an action and correcting behavior is directing or redirecting a decision.  I’m sure a behaviorist or therapist or child psychologist might have different definitions, but that’s generally how I look at it.

So, now that we’re all talking about the same things here, let’s talk about how we discipline Bean.  It’s happening more often as he grows up and makes more choices on his own.  Most of the time, he’s pretty good about going with the flow and if you redirect him when he’s into something he shouldn’t be into, he bounces right along and changes his actions.  But more and more frequently, we are seeing him make decisions and take action that is outright defiant.  Oddly enough, the closer he gets to turning two in June, the more frequent he’s being defiant…

Funny how that works.

Consistency is our best plan of attack when it comes to discipline.  If Bean knows what is acceptable each and every time, then it becomes a habit without him even noticing it.  He gets into such a habit of doing what we except that he seems to forget that he actually has a choice.  We also make sure that we are consistent as parents, too.  Bean can’t have one set of rules for me and one set of rules for Chris.  Both of us use the same rules and the same consequences so that we’re all on the same page.

When Bean DOES remember that he can make a choice (and, as I said, that’s happening more often these days), we have a few consequences that we use.  First is removal from whatever it is he is doing.  Take today, for example, Bean was rolling around on the floor with Molly and they were playing.  But Bean started getting really rough and eventually that roughhousing turned into outright hitting – a big no no in our house.  So, I said to him, “No, Beanie.  We don’t hit.  Be gentle.”  And he looked right at me and smacked Molly in the face.  So, I immediately went over to Bean, took him firmly by the hand and walked him to the other side of the room and said, “No, sir.  We do not hit.”  It may not seem like discipline, but for Bean it is very effective.  Nothing bothers him more than having an activity interrupted, so removing him from whatever he’s doing – whether it be taking him to another room, taking him out of his high chair, or walking him to the other side of the room – it calls his attention to the fact that he cannot continue with that specific behavior.

It used to be that the removal from the situation was the end of the discipline.  Bean would meltdown and we would walk away and not give him any attention for that behavior.  But in the past month we have really started finishing the discipline process in that situation by making Bean apologize.  We remove him from whatever he’s doing, he inevitably breaks down sobbing and throwing a fit (which we ignore), and when he gets himself under control again, we go back over to him and tell him one more time that whatever he was doing was not nice and then we ask him to go say he’s sorry to whomever he was mean to.  In this case, I would walk him back over to Molly, ask him to tell her he’s sorry, and then give her a hug.  When he’s completed that step, the discipline is over and we happily move on to something else.

If removing Bean from the situation doesn’t work and I find him doing whatever it was he got in trouble for again, we go to a time out.  Though, I have to admit, we’ve only used time out a handful of times so far.  Mostly because by the time we get him to stay where he’s supposed to stay, he doesn’t even remember why he’s there.  I am a big believer in time outs and will use them more as Bean gets older, but at 19 months old, the process takes longer than Bean can comprehend and I don’t see the purpose in disciplining if he can’t relate the punishment to the offense.

Does that make sense?

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The few times we’ve used a time out, we have done it quickly so Bean knows that he gets THIS consequence for THAT action.  The other night Bean was in a terrible mood.  Whining, yelling, getting easily frustrated.  It wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t punishable either.  As long as he didn’t break any rules, then he can be in whatever kind of mood he wants.  But then I told Bean that he couldn’t play with the TV remote and in retaliation, Bean picked up the remote and hurled it at me.

No.  Sir.

So, I walked over to him, got down on his level, and firmly told him, “No, sir.  We do not throw.  You need to sit in time out.”  Then I sat him on the couch and walked away.  He was so shocked he didn’t know what to do at first.  And then the wailing started.  The pitiful, pathetic, my-mommy-hates-me wailing.  When he tried to get down, I put him back on the couch and said simply, “No, sir.  You are in time out.”

(Commence Wailing…)

I left him there for about a minute or so.  But to Bean it could have been 15 years.  It might as well have been a life sentence.  He was horrified and hurt and so upset.  It broke my heart, really.  But after about a minute, I walked over to him and got back down to his level and told him again, “We don’t throw things at Mommy, Bean.  Can tell Mommy you’re sorry?”  And he instantly spit out, “I’m sawwy,” and gave me a big hug.  Oh, it was brutal!  BRUTAL!  But afterward, I thought about it and really from start to finish the whole ordeal lasted two minutes – max.  And I can hang in there with crocodile tears for two minutes.

To be honest, that’s really all the discipline we are using right now with Bean.  Right or wrong, for our Beanie, those two methods have been all we’ve needed.  When it feels like he’s not being effected by the discipline anymore or that he can comprehend a little more, then we’ll introduce other things.  But for now, this is what we’re doing and it seems to be working for us.

What about you?  How do you handle discipline in your house?  What is your discipline philosophy?

21  comments   |   posted in About Beanie, Angry Bean, discipline, parenting, The Romper Room, Toddlerhood   |   tags: parenting, toddler discipline, toddlers

This is Bean.

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He’s learning to dress himself. Well, let me be more specific. He’s learning how to UNdress himself.

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He walks around half dressed now, like a little hillbilly. But it’s not the hillbilly part that I’d like to talk about today. It’s the headstrong part. Bean has become so darn hardheaded and headstrong in the past couple weeks that living with him is like living with a demanding foreigner because I can’t actually understand what he wants most of the time. It’s just a lot of yelling and pouting and screaming, “PLEASSSSSE!” over and over again.

He does not seem to grasp the concept behind manners yet. Instead, he thinks “please” is just the word you say to demand something.

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But it’s not the yelling that is driving me crazy, it’s the whining! Always with the whining! In the car, it’s constant whining because he wants a snack or juice or his binky or a four course French meal…who the crap knows. At home, it’s constant whining about anything. A toy that is stuck somewhere, something is taken away from him, play time is interrupted for dinner, bath time is over, it’s time for bed – anything. Everything. It’s all going to be whined about.

AND I CAN’T HANDLE IT ANYMORE!

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I don’t want to back down because I know this is just another way he is testing his limits right now, but I swear sometimes as I’m saying no for the 5,000th time, I really think, “Oh, who the heck cares? Eat the dog food. Whatever.”

But I’m trying not to back down. Unfortunately, my patience is wearing thin and at the end of a long day at work with a belly full o’ baby, the last thing I feel like doing is reasoning with an unreasonable baby.

So, tell me, O Wise Imaginary Friends, is this just me? Is it Bean? Is this his age? A phase? Or should I just sell him on eBay?

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Throughout all the transitions and changes our family has been going through these past few weeks, I have worried and worried and worried over little Bean Bean.  I worried because he didn’t seem to notice anything was going on (is he mentally able to process change?!?!).  I worried when he cried before I put him to bed at night (was he scared in his new bedroom?!?!).  I worried when we momentarily lost Mr. Bear during the move (will he ever forgive me?!?!).

Turns out, I worried for no good reason.

Apparently, Bean got his father’s stress aversion gene and there doesn’t seem to be much that stresses this kid out.

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Bean has spent his first days in our new house pretty much like he spent the two weeks at my parents house and the five months before that at our rental house.

Chillaxin’.

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In fact, Bean has walked around our new house like he owns the joint.

The only difference in his personality (and I’m not even sure this is related to moving) is his reaction to understanding that some things don’t belong to him – like the medicine drawer or the closet where we keep the cleaning supplies or the grill tongs or (…sigh…) the dog bowls.  When Chris or I take something away from him lately, Bean has the most shocking response I’ve ever seen.

It is so shocking, actually, that I have taken pictures to document the response in case medical science needs to look further into it.

Exhibit A:

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When reprimanded and/or restrained, the subject seems to cry out in physical pain and then fling itself onto the hard floor where said subject then wallows, stopping only to look up and see if the parental figures have noticed and then continuing the wallow in spectacular fashion.

Bean is in the process of perfecting the art of temper tantrums.

Naturally, I blame his grandparents.

When we were staying at my parent’s house, it was like Christmas morning every day.  Bean never had to lift a finger.  Life was all Tonka trucks and golf carts.  In fact, I saw Bean several times walk up to my mother, open his mouth, and wait for her to place a morsel of food in his mouth.

Bean was livin’ the life.

But then we move into our new house and my parents stayed at their house and Bean seems to have connected those two things and come to the conclusion that he must now do menial tasks such as feeding himself by himself. Like a commoner.  So, to protest he gives out a war cry of fake anguish and then flings himself on the floor next to whomever is closest to him and he begins to roll around and fake cry.

I know he is fake crying because he stops occasionally to look up and see if Chris and I are looking (we never do) and then he scoots closer to us and goes back to the wailing/fake crying thing.

Drama, drama, drama.

We are responding by using a method we learned in (…wait for it…wait for it…) our dog training classes.

Awful, I know.  But I actually have read the same method, though phrased differently, in parenting books, too.  We are just ignoring him.  We don’t make eye contact.  We don’t react.  We don’t interact.  We just ignore him.  Sometimes this is hard to do.  Like when I’m cooking dinner and he has decided to throw himself down in the middle of the kitchen.  But, I just step over him and continue on my way.

When the tantrum ends (and it always does) and he stops the fake crying, we go over to him and ask him what he wants.  He either says the word (ball, outside, juice, etc.) or he points to what he wants and then we tell him what a good boy he is and we give him what he has calmly asked for and then we all move on with our day.

I have no idea if that’s the right way to handle the situation, but I’m guessing that if there is more than one way to perform an exorcism, then there must be more than one way to deal with a toddler meltdown because they have a lot of similarities, I would imagine.

What about YOU?  How do you deal with temper tantrums?

39  comments   |   posted in About Beanie, Angry Bean, parenting, The Romper Room   |   tags: child development, humor, life, parenting, toddlers

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