Tag Archives: toddlers

Toddler Talk: Requiem For a Nap

In memory of nap time, which left my life too soon…

When you have a baby, naps take on a previously unimaginable significance in your life. In your pre-parenting life, naps were a rare Sunday afternoon treat, after a Saturday night spent clubbing or doing a movie marathon or whatever other fun things childless people do on Saturday nights that I no longer remember ever having done. Sure, maybe you gently snored through afternoon lectures in college. Or maybe you did covert power naps behind your computer post-lunch in office. But the nap was never an integral part of your life, the thing you planned your entire day around. The thing you looked forward to from the moment you woke up in the morning.

All that changes the day your newborn comes into your life. When you’re first told that you should “sleep when the baby sleeps”, you baulk at the idea. Nap at 11 o’clock in the morning? It seems so… wrong. But after that second or third sleepless night, you learn your lesson. If you don’t catch some zzz’s when your baby is napping, you’re going to unravel at the seams (well, you’re probably going to unravel anyway, but the occasional nap slows the process slightly).

As baby gets older, nap time settles into a (sort of) pattern. Morning nap and afternoon nap… a blessed hour or hour and a half each of peace and quiet, when you actually get a bit of time to yourself. You can shower uninterrupted. Catch up on waiting chores. Or go on Facebook and watch cat videos (it’s all about priorities). If the night was bad, you might even grab some shut-eye yourself. In other words, naptime is a stay-at-home mom’s idea of happy hour.

Once you enter the toddler years, things start getting rocky. You’re now deeply attached to the idea of naps, but your toddler has different ideas. The first thing to go is the morning nap (sigh), when your 15 or 16 month old decides she’s done wasting her precious time sleeping pre-noon. You then centre all your hopes on the afternoon nap. When your two year old starts resisting that as well, it means all-out war. You know she needs it. She knows she needs it. But she’s not going to give in without a fight. A daily afternoon battle of wills follows. There are days when you lose (these are not good days). But most of the time she eventually nods off, because she’s exhausted and can’t really cope without the snooze.

The real trouble begins when your toddler begins to out-grow the nap altogether. If you’re lucky, that won’t be until she’s four or older. If you’re not (like me), that happens around the age of three. The signs have been there for the last couple of months, though I’ve tried desperately to ignore them. The naps have been getting shorter and the timings more erratic. The battles have gotten bloodier, and I’ve been staggering away vanquished more often. Well, now it’s official. She no longer needs a nap during the day. She doesn’t sleep, and she’s just fine and dandy. Doesn’t even get cranky later in the evening. It’s done and dusted. Fini. Khatam. No more naps for my toddler.

And so, I write this article in memory of those blissful islands of daytime quietude I’ve enjoyed these past three years. When I actually got to post a blog entry or finish cooking or read list after pointless list on Buzzfeed. Or when I closed the curtains and pulled up the covers and enjoyed a sinfully delicious afternoon nap myself.

Ah, nap time… I will miss you. You were good to me. You swept unexpectedly into my life, and in this short time, you’ve become special to me. Now, all too soon, it is time for you to go. I wish I could hold on, but let go I must.

Farewell to you, my dear.

TIPS:

  1. Hard as it is, allow the progression from two naps to (sigh) no naps to happen naturally.
  2. You know your child best; watch for signs that she’s getting enough sleep.
  3. When it’s time to bid adieu to nap time, let go. Accept that it’s the end of an era

‘Toddler Talk’ is a weekly column that appears in The Hindu Metroplus on Tuesdays.

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Toddler Talk: Tears for Fears

Firecrackers, hair washes, ticking clocks… a whole host of things can trigger toddler fears

Hair dryer? Or hot-air blowing Monster of Doom?

There are few things as tough to handle as a toddler’s fears. Let’s face it, this is a weird world we live in. It isn’t easy to get used to all the strange things – the noises, the sights, the smells – we surround ourselves with. As busy, hassled adults who’re constantly bombarded by sensory input, we hardly notice most of these things anymore, not unless we’re literally assaulted by them (which would explain the nature of our news channels these days. Right, Arnab?).

But to toddlers who’re just getting acquainted with their environment, a lot of things can be upsetting. Sudden, loud noisemakers such as pressure cookers, hair-dryers, and firecrackers are obvious triggers. Through the second year of my daughter’s life, I had to hide in the bathroom or kitchen to use a hair-dryer, because she’d sob as though Godzilla was coming if I turned it on in her vicinity. She was apparently convinced that this growling, hot air-blowing monster was going to eat mommy, and nothing I said or did could change her mind. It didn’t matter that we kept a cooker every day; she still cried for each whistle, each time. And needless to say, our Diwalis haven’t been particularly ‘happy’, since my daughter spends it mostly with her face buried in my lap, trembling at each loud cracker-burst (like ostriches, toddlers are convinced that burying their heads will make scary things go away. Only, instead of sand, they pick various portions of mummy or daddy’s anatomy to dive into, so be prepared for lots of ouch-inducing head-butts).

Not all kids are the same, of course. Some are less highly-strung, others more. And they react to different things. One little boy I know went through a phase when he became acutely sensitive to bad smells. Every morning, just as he left for playschool, the garbage truck would enter his street. Every morning, he would throw up his breakfast. Every morning, without fail.

At least with loud sounds and strong smells, you can try and find ways to protect the child. You can avoid garbage skips like the plague. Risk electrocution by blow-drying your hair in the wet bathroom. Move to Iceland during Diwali. But other fears are tougher simply because they involve tasks that can’t be avoided. Like a fear of head baths. There’re only so many days (weeks?) a toddler can go without washing her hair before she becomes a bit of a stink-hazard herself. My daughter even went through a (thankfully brief) period when she was terrified of having her face washed (yes, bath-time was an absolute delight).

Even tougher, though, are the utterly irrational fears. They’re the hardest to understand, and the hardest to deal with. Like when, one fine day, your toddler decides she’s petrified of an uncle or great-uncle she’s seen hundreds of times before, and refuses to take her face out of your shoulder unless said uncle leaves the room. Or when she decides, for whatever reason, that she’s scared of ticking clocks (my daughter’s latest) or of her own shadow. Try finding a way of avoid those. If it wasn’t for the clock on my phone (thank god for the digital revolution!), I’d completely lose track of time because all wall clocks and alarm clocks in my house are currently in forced hiding.

But really, the most heart-wrenching part is seeing your child gripped by fear. You feel helpless, because nothing you do – no amount of explaining or reassuring – seems to work. It’s frustrating because you want so much to make them feel better, but instead, at the end of a long stretch of holding and comforting, you just left feeling wrung out and exhausted. But the good news is that they do grow out of it. My daughter actually let me use Godzilla, I mean, the hair-dryer on her recently. And I’m sure we’ll have clocks on our walls again. Eventually.

TIPs:

  1. Never ridicule your child’s fears, even if they seem random. It’s very real to them.
  2. Comfort and reassure, and then try to distract.
  3. If it’s something that has to be done, just do it. Faces need to be washed, hair needs to be cut, and that’s that.

‘Toddler Talk’ is a weekly column that appears in The Hindu MetroPlus.

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Toddler Talk: The “Parents of Fussy Eaters” Support Group

There are few jobs as frustrating and just plain exhausting as feeding a toddler with fussy eating habits.

If toddlers were like camels, it wouldn’t matter as much; we could just stuff them with one really good meal a day and then relax while they subsist on the good stuff stored away in their humps or whatever. Unfortunately, they’re more like hyperactive hamsters that burn calories nonstop by running round and round in circles, so you need to feed them three times a day and add healthy snacks in between. The result? Your whole day pretty much revolves around planning what to give them at each meal, and making sure it’s ready on time. Then you need to wheedle them into actually trying the food, selling the dish like some desperate door-to-door salesman (“Paruppu sadam is Dora’s favourite, I swear!”), before finally spending an hour feeding it to them. By the time you’re done with one meal, it’s time to regroup and start thinking about the next.

There’s no step of this process that’s simple. Entire food groups need to be left out simply because your toddler has decided they’re “yucky”. There are no guarantees whatsoever — what was ‘in’ last week or even last night might be on the barf-list today.

And so, for all those parents out there who struggle with this meal after meal, snack after snack, day after day, I propose the creation of the Parents of Fussy Eaters (POFE) support group. This is a non-judgmental space, a place where no one will say, “Your child looks so thin! Has she lost weight?” and no one will blink an eye if you say she had banana chips and ketchup for dinner last night because that’s all she would eat.

We’ll be there for you when your toddler refuses to even taste the soup she claimed she LOVED just last week. We’ll hold your hand when she eats barely two morsels of the dish you spent all evening cooking for her (“It’s kaaram!”). We’ll listen while you rant about the way she ravenously ate curd rice — the one thing she will not touch at home — at your friend’s house, just moments after you’d finished assuring the friend that she definitely wouldn’t eat it. We’ll share in your wistfulness as you watch another child wolf down a full festival feast and wipe his ilai clean, while yours has eaten about one-fifth of a dosa. We’ll pat your shoulder understandingly when you confess that your child sometimes has lunch at 4 p.m. because breakfast took till noon. We’ll even help you lose that extra weight you’ve gained because of eating all those ghee/butter/cheese-filled delicacies your toddler wouldn’t finish. And provide therapy when you snap from having to watch the same cartoon over and over again three times a day, seven days a week, because it’s the only thing that makes your child eat.

You can call our helpline any time, after the trauma of breakfast, lunch or dinner, or after you’ve spent half an hour trying to feed your child half a banana, which now lies in little spit-pools all over your drawing room. You could get mad and decide to just let her eat whatever she wants. But you know you’ll pay the price for that with a night-long tummy ache session, because her idea of a balanced meal is probably chocolate cake and cola.

Instead, call us or attend one of our meetings. No one here will give you advice or thrust super-nutritious recipes on you, recipes so complicated that even the ingredients intimidate you, and no one will look horrified if you say your child hasn’t eaten any vegetable other than potato in three months.

At POFE, we’re simply here to listen to each other’s hair-raising, appetite-killing stories. And, in the process, help you keep your sanity through yet another long meal with your fussy eater.

TIPS:

1. Membership to the Parents of Fussy Eaters (POFE) support group is free. You’ve suffered enough.

2. You’re only required to prove adequate fussiness. Parents concerned that their kid didn’t go back for a third helping at the buffet need not apply.

3. The only advice we give at POFE is: toddlers are hardier than they seem. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Too much.

‘Toddler Talk’ is a weekly column that appears in The Hindu Metroplus. 

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Toddler Talk: Telephones and Timbuktu

On toddlers and their enduring love affair with phones of all kinds

There’s something about cellphones. No, scratch that. There’s something about all phones. Toddlers simply love them. You might even say that they’re fixated on them.

It doesn’t matter whether they’re new-age smartphones or old-fashioned landlines, toy phones or cordless phones. If there’s a phone in sight, your toddler is going to want to fiddle with it, poke at it, talk on it, and of course, at the end, drop it with a resounding crash.

I used to think it was just cellphones, especially the smartphone variety. After all, they are exceedingly attractive. They look glossy, they take photos (ooh selfies!), they play videos and games, and they do fun things when you swipe their big screens. Most adults can barely put theirs down for a second, so how can you blame a two-year-old?

But then I realised that your average toddler simply doesn’t care about all these high-end features. My maid’s basic, phone-calls-only cell is of as much interest to my daughter as my swanky (well, it used to be, before it was scribbled on and dropped some 50 times) Samsung S4. In fact, the kid’s something of an authority on all the cellphones that enter our household. Put any five cells before her, and she can identify which belongs to whom effortlessly (she could probably do it blindfolded, by ringtone alone). All visitors have their phones duly inspected, and if your cell is missing, you can be sure she’ll find it and bring it to you with a triumphant, “Here it is!” (following full inspection, of course).

With landlines, the attraction is obviously that stretchy, spiral cord— getting hopelessly tangled in it, and staggering around like a tech-age mummy, or using it to drag the phone around like some sort of electronic puppy. Cordless phones, on the other hand, are perfect for tucking into the shoulder, just like mommy does while working, and striding about holding serious imaginary conversations. Both, of course, are perfect for putting through calls to Timbuktu by sheer trial and error.

But whatever the type of phone, the prerequisite is that it must work. Old, unused or disconnected phones will be ruthlessly rejected with a “No! It’s not working!” It must go beep-beep-boop when jabbed. It must have a dial-tone. That, really, is the only distinction a toddler demands of a phone.

Inexperienced, first-time mom that I was, I thought the solution was to buy her a toy phone. They’re colourful, make chirpy sounds – so she can’t deny that they work – and there’s no fear of radiation, or of calls being put through accidentally to the other end of the planet. She could even learn from them! Pleased with myself, I bought her a (ridiculously expensive) toy phone which taught numbers and counting. She ignored it magnificently. But she did love the red Spiderman phone that loudly sang “Appadi Podu, Podu, Podu” (a fusion phone!) that someone gifted her. And, of course, my cellphone, daddy’s cellphone, both sets of grandparents’ phones, the home phone, my friends’ phones…

The number of toy phones she owns has now gone up to three (including a sparkly pink one to go with her pink handbag). They mainly come in useful during play-dates, because even the most even-tempered toddler goes a little berserk when he sees a phone, and brawls inevitably break out. This way, each kid gets a phone to play with. One pretends to be her mom, and sighs over how busy she is. One calls Dora for help, because her car is stuck in the mud. And the last one … well, I can’t quite tell what her conversation’s about since it appears to be in an alien language, but clearly it’s of great significance.

Then they abandon their phones and aim for the home phone/my cellphone. Because when it comes to telephones and toddlers, there is only one truth– there can never be enough beeping-booping fun.

Anyone called Timbuktu today?

Tips:

  1. Try to restrict play time with cellphones to avoid too much exposure to radiation.
  2. All phones are hot-beds of germs, so try not to let the child handle them too much…
  3. Oh, who I am kidding? Just give the kid the phone already.

‘Toddler Talk’ is a weekly column published in The Hindu MetroPlus. An edited version of this article can be found here.

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Toddler Talk: No! Nooooo! NononoNO!

To preserve the sanity of parents everywhere, I propose the creation of ‘Say No to Your Toddler Day’
It’s been one of those days. Since she woke up this morning, my daughter has said ‘No!’ to:

– Brushing her teeth

– Taking off her diaper. Putting on her diaper.

– Putting on underwear. Taking off her underwear.

– Pooping on the potty. Not pooping in the potty.

– Eating breakfast.

– Eating lunch.

– Eating dinner.

– Drinking water. Drinking milk.

– Wiping her face. Wiping her hands. Wiping her nose.

– Having a bath. Wiping herself dry after the bath.

– Putting on her clothes. Taking off her clothes. Putting on hair clips. Taking off hair clips. Putting on shoes. Taking off shoes.

– Combing her hair. Tying up her hair.

– Taking a nap. Sleeping at night. Especially sleeping at night.

(She also almost said no to cartoons, but caught herself just in time).

The nos range from ladylike and British-accented (thanks to the very propah ‘Peppa Pig’, her current cartoon muse) to loud and guttural (“Noaa!”), from a long-drawn out “Noooooo” for moments of greater stress, and the very emphatic “NononoNO!” for those times when she’s really upset and just one ‘No’ won’t do (like when she has to be parted from some hopelessly dreadful Hello Kitty toy in the store or Peppa Pig needs to go beddy-bye).

What really gets to you is the sheer irrationality behind the nos. Not wanting to take a bath or to eat idli you can kind of understand. But during the Terrible Twos, your toddler will say no even to things she’s apparently wanted for months. My daughter, for instance, had been asking for ‘new red shoes’ for ages. It came up every time we dressed up or went to a store. So finally, on a day when I was feeling particularly kind and magnanimous, I took her to a shoe shop.

“Look, red shoes! Do you like them?” I said smugly, expecting ‘wows’ and hugs and excitement.

What I got instead was a big fat “No!”

Fifteen minutes later, we’d pulled out every red shoe her size in the store, and she refused to put her foot into even one of them. “Noooooo! NononoNO!”

I was harassed, the shoe salesman was annoyed and the other customers were thoroughly amused. When the salesman turned away to talk to someone else, I slunk quietly out of the shop, carrying my barefooted daughter, who was now refusing to put on the old shoes she’d worn to the shop.

And so, in honour of parents everywhere who have survived days like this, I propose the creation of “Say No to Your Toddler Day”. You might say, well, parents say no all the time. Ah, but those are sensible nos, when you’re trying to stop your toddler from eating plastic beads or Play-Doh, or preventing them from painting the sofa red or ‘flying’ off the dining room table. Those are tiresome, tiring everyday nos, which lead to frustration and a strong desire to burst into tears on your part.

What I propose is more radical. On this special day, you, the parent, get to be utterly irrational. On “Say No to Your Toddler Day”, you can say no to any random thing you want, anytime. In other words, for a day, you get to be two again. For instance:

Toddler: Peppa Pig!

You: No!

Toddler: Dora!

You: Nooooo!

Toddler: Barney!

You: NononoNO!

(and so on)

It can even have the unintended side effect of making a truly contrary toddler do whatever you want her to. For example:

You: No banana today. No! No! No!

Toddler: Banana!

You: Nooooo!

Toddler: I want banana!

You: NonononNO!

Toddler: Bananaaaaaaaaa!

If you feel a day of such randomness on the part of a parent will be detrimental to the delicate psyche of your toddler, you can ensure that there’s another primary care provider around to actually do the feeding and clothing etc. of the toddler. And you can go around saying no to the adults in your life, which can be just as satisfying.

Significant Other: What’s for dinner?

You: No! NononoNO!

All in favour of ‘Say No to Your Toddler Day’ say NO!

Tips:

-You need to practice those nos. No more sounding like a stern parent. Feel the joy of being utterly irrational and let that “NO!” rip.

-Go for the ‘no’ length and style most natural to you. That will allow you to clock in more nos a day.

-Shoot for about 58.2 nos a day (a typical toddler average). As you get better at it, you can increase the number.

‘Toddler Talk’ is a weekly column published in The Hindu MetroPlus. 

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Miscellaneous toddlerisms

baby doll

Impossible toddler goals-

1) D: Amma, I want to lie down on my lap.
Me: You mean you want to lie down on amma’s lap?
D (bending over and twisting her head onto her knee): No! I want to lie on D’s lap!

2) Wanting to sleep on six-inch long dolly beds, and coveting her baby doll’s clothes and shoes (“I want! I want!”)

Accurate toddler misinterpretations:

1) Me (being pretentious): Excuse-moi
D (cheerfully): Excuse amma!

2) Me: Let’s go to the library, D
D: I love going to the libraread!

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