The Way of the Toddler Calmer

Over the course of the last seven years or so, there has from time to time been one cranky toddler or another in the Diller house who was too tired to get to sleep. Most parents will know exactly what I'm talking about: a condition known variously as "over tired", "T.R.S.", "frantically tired", etc.

My early attempts at dealing with this condition were typical testosterone-soaked white-belt attempts to be tougher than the toddler, not to be manipulated, to meet strength with strength, and so forth. The predictable outcome was usually to emerge frazzled after far too long when said child finally exhausted his or herself to sleep.

Behold, after seven years training by the 3 year old masters themselves, the black-belt way: redirect and seduce.

The "I want Mommy, I want Mommy, I want Mommy" or "I wanted two pieces of cheese, I wanted two pieces of cheese..." or fill in the blank with some other demand, is actually excess of energy that needs to be redirected. The most effective method is to startle the wailing one into laughter. Witness Caroline tonight, who was crying for Mommy to stay, but Mommy was unwilling to stay after repeated violations of under-the-shirt personal space. Nothing at all against Mommy, who has very lovingly tucked and kissed and prayed and sung, but a change of character is called for (This could just as easily be Mommy switching out for Daddy). Enter Daddy, who bends down and repeatedly asks, "What? I can't hear you through all the wailing. It sounds like someone is saying I want to play in hay!"

"No Daddy" sniff! sniff! "I want Mommy to stay." Resume wailing.

"I thought you were saying you wanted to play in the hay."

Silence. "What?"

Now the moment is right. I have her attention. Time for the bait and switch.

"I thought you said you wanted to play in the hay. Does your back still itch like you were telling me earlier?"

"No" sniff sniff!

"Because I was thinking wouldn't it be funny if you got one of our chickens to climb on your back and scratch it for you?"

This silly and not actually very funny proposition provides the miniscule excuse necessary, and out comes a flood of over-energetic laughing. If you've heard it, you know it. It's too loud and it's too hard, but the release is palpable. She was just looking for an excuse to laugh, which has a lot of the same energy as crying, but it makes you feel a whole lot better.

I watch her body relax. I see the tears start to dry. I hear the shaky breaths start to even out.

Now it's time to switch into relaxation mode. The tension has been released, she's ready to be seduced into closing her eyes and sleeping. We play the make-pancakes game on her tummy. All of the ingredients are poured out and mixed up with Daddy fingers on the soft tummy. The pancakes are poured out in spirals. The loooong wait for the bubbles to form before we can flip them. The eyes closed better to imagine the smell. Anything she wants can go into those pancakes, usually chocolate chips and pecans. After a lip-smacking taste, she lies back and is asleep within a couple breaths more.

Isn't that better than cry-it-out?