The trouble is that the natural response of the child, particularly between ages 1-3, is ‘No’. Then the poor parent has to persuade the child to give in to something that was necessary anyway.
These arguments use up thousands of words. It is better not to offer a choice.
When it’s time for lunch, lead or carry your child her to the table, still chatting about the thing that was on the child’s mind before. When you see signs that your child needs to go to the toilet, lead her there or bring the potty to her.
Every time you take a child away from something he’s absorbed in, it helps to be tactful:
When you show interest in what your child is doing, it puts her in a cooperative mood.
If a four-year-old has spent half an hour building a garage of blocks, you can say, ‘Put the cars in soon now. I want to see them inside before you go to bed’. This works better than pouncing on her without warning when the most exciting part of the play is still to come, or giving her a cross warning.
All this takes patience, though, and naturally you won’t always have it. No parent ever does.
Read more about handling transitions.
You sometimes see a child between the ages of 1-3 who becomes worried by too many warnings. The mother of a certain two-year-old boy always tries to control him with ideas: ‘Jackie, you mustn't touch the doctor’s lamp, because you will break it, and then the doctor won’t be able to see’. Jackie regards the lamp with a worried expression and mutters, ‘Doctor can’t see’.
A minute later he is trying to open the door to the street. His mother warns him, ‘Don’t go out the door. Jackie might get lost, and Mummy couldn’t find him’. Poor Jackie turns this new danger over in his mind and repeats, ‘Mummy can’t find him’.
It’s bad for Jackie to hear about so many bad endings. A two-year-old baby shouldn’t be worrying much about the consequences of his actions. This is the period when he is meant to learn by doing and having things happen. I’m not advising you never to warn your child in words, but only that you shouldn’t always lead him out beyond his depth with ideas.
I think of an overconscientious father who feels he should give his three-year-old daughter a reasonable explanation of everything. When it’s time to get ready to go outdoors, it never occurs to him to put the child’s coat on in a matter-of-fact way and get out.
He begins, ‘Shall we put your coat on now?’ ‘No’, says the child. ‘Oh, but we want to go out and get some nice fresh air’.
She is used to the fact that her father feels obliged to give a reason for everything. This encourages her to make him argue for every point. So she says, ‘Why?’ – but not because she really wants to know. ‘Fresh air makes you strong and healthy so that you won’t get sick.’ ‘Why?’ says she. And so it goes, back and forth, all day long.
This kind of meaningless argument and explanation will not make her a more cooperative child or give her respect for her father as a reasonable person. She would be happier and get more security from him if he had an air of self-confidence and steered her in a friendly, automatic way through the routines of the day.