You have the power

Really.

A couple of mothers stand chatting on my front sidewalk, their children in their strollers. Just as one mother is about to wheel her child homeward, the child spies the small nugget of sidewalk chalk left over from this afternoon’s play. Spies it and hops out of the stroller to continue his artistry.

His mother sighs, and I know what she’s thinking. Yesterday, the mother had “been stuck” playing chalks for a full hour after she’d intended to leave, you see, held hostage by a not-quite-two who couldn’t be coaxed back into the stroller and homeward.

(One might think this would be an argument in favour of buckling the child securely into the stroller, but that doesn’t seem to have occurred.)

I was not aware of her prolongued tenure of my front yard, having gone inside and busied myself in the kitchen at the rear of the house once I’d said my goodbyes at closing. I wasn’t aware, that is, until this morning, when I saw the extra artwork and heard the mother’s resigned complaints.

Complaints which, if someone doesn’t take immediate action, are only going to be repeated this evening. Even as mother is sighing in preparation for the prolongued coax-and-negoatiate session she sees ahead, I reach for the bucket which houses the rest of the chalk.

“Oh, look! You found a piece of chalk! Good work! Now you can help put it away! Put the chalk in the bucket, please.” All said in tones of hearty good cheer.

And in it goes.

“Thank you! What a great helper!” And then I pick the child up, pop him into his stroller… and snap the belt. The other two mothers applaud and praise his helpfulness. Tot beams widely.

“YOU are the master,” says mom. To me, not the child.

I grin. “You don’t realize how much control you have over their emotional reactions to things. If you radiate confidence and cheerfulness, they will very often go along with you.”

That is all true. There is more to the equation, though. This child is fully aware that if he balks, it will happen anyway. If required, I will take his hand, wrap it around the chalk, shake it loose into the bucket and then thank him with a big beaming smile, as if all that ‘compliance’ was totally voluntary.

In fact, that’s the first step in a process, a process which we’re (mostly) done with these days. The second step, when resistance occurs, is to remind them. “You can do it on your own, or I will help you do it.” Independence is important at this age — that’s why you’re getting all the resistance in the first place. If they can assert their independence by doing what you ask, well heck. They soon decide they’d prefer to do it on their own, thanks.

It takes a few (or more) repetitions to get to the point of (mostly) cheerful compliance… but get there, you will. (The stuff in brackets reflects the reality of working with toddlers, but it is perfectly reasonable to expect cooperation most of the time, with resistance being the exception.)

This child is 20 months, and he’s been cheerfully cooperative for two months, at least. He’s not cowed, he’s not fearful, he’s not resentful. It’s just that we’ve been through this loop — polite request, hand-over-hand ensuring it happens, copious thanks — we’ve been through it so many times that it is no longer automatic to resist. In fact, it’s (mostly) automatic to go along. It’s been a while, two months? four?, since I’ve done a hand-over-hand with him. It simply hasn’t been necessary.

Resistance? Argument? Defiance? Nope. He doesn’t need to do that to assert his independence. He can assert his independence by doing what he was asked on his own! He just plops the chalk in the bucket — and then, in this case, reaps the reward of the smiles and approbation of not just one, but three adults!

What’s not to like?