I live with the toddler whisperer

I recently found my old copy of "The Happiest Toddler on the Block: How to Eliminate Tantrums and Raise a Patient, Respectful, and Cooperative One to Four Year Old." That's a mouthful, huh? And I'm not talking about the length of the title. I'm talking about the words "patient, respectful and cooperative" in the same sentence as "one to four year old" and putting your name on it for the world to see.

That's exactly what Dr. Harvey Karp did and about 8 months ago, when I first started seeing hints of terrible two-ing in my future. . .I immediately ordered that thing and paid for express shipping!

Dr. Harvey Karp looks like he knows a tantrum when he sees one.

And I can't believe I never told you this story.

I read the book dutifully.  In about two evenings.  And it was craaa-haazy.

Dr. Harvey Karp told me to eliminate tantrums I must first make the child see that I understand the emotion behind the tantrum.  Um. . .what?  He said there's an art to civilizing a toddler and that taming tantrums is not only possible but easy.  Side note:  If Dr. Harvey was with me right now, and could see how difficult it is most mornings to have a civilized cup of coffee, or apply civilized eyeliner, or maybe take a civilized quick trip to the store to get the milk I forgot from my last civilized trip to the store, things might be different.

Anyway, that's what he said.  And I ate. it. up.

So here's my 10 second summary on how to actually achieve toddler tantrum bliss:

Get down to their level, throw all of your pride and self-worth out the window, and have a good old-fashioned tantrum right there with them;  making sure to repeat the emotions you see so they understand that you are empathetic. 

Can you see where we're going with this?

So.  . .yep.  We're at the grocery store a few days later, and Cole wants something I say he can't have. . .and here we go.  I squat down to his level and start telling him "Mom knows Cole is mad.  Cole mad.  Cole mad."  Do you even realize how foolish this feels?  But that's what Dr. Harvey says to do.  Keep repeating over and over in short sentences what the child is trying to tell you.  Use the same intensity as the child.  Mirror what you are being shown. . .

And Cole's like. . . seriously freaked for a second.  And I think it's working. . .until he is clearly having no part of my experiment and flips out louder. . .and louder. . .

. . .so I do, too.

"Cole MAD.  Cole MAD.  MOM KNOWS COLE MAD."

A woman pushing a cart down my aisle does a complete 180 and goes the other way.

"COLE WANT TOY.  MOM KNOWS COLE WANT TOY.  COLE MAAAD."

Why are you acting like this, mum? You're freaking me out!

Listen.  I'm going to stop here.  It's embarrassing enough that I'm telling you that I tried this.  And in public.  We don't need to go into the rest of the horrifying specifics.

Let's just say it didn't work.  Not even a smidge.  I considered it relatively successful in that #1: I wasn't asked to leave the store and #2: I didn't see anyone I knew.  But that's it.  Cole continued to have his tantrum, I tried having one for awhile, too.  It felt crazy.  It certainly must have looked crazy.  Not one of my best parenting moments. . .

So flash forward with me a few months to yesterday. . .

. . .when Cole is having another tantrum (terrible threes, fours, fives. . .eighteens. . .does this ever end?) and here's how it goes. . .

Me:  "Mom doesn't appreciate when you act this way."
Cole:  "ARGHHAHAGHGH"
Me:  "Mom is going to walk away from you now until you can calm down."
Cole:  "ARRGGHHGHG MUM ARGH"
Me:   "Okay, Cole.  I'm leaving and if you continue to act this way, you'll sit in your chair for a break."
Cole:  "ARGHHHARG NOOO MUUUUM ARGGAH"

And Bill walks in the room.

Looks at Cole.

Points one finger at him and says, in his most calm and monotoned voice. . .

"I'm not interested."

And Cole takes a deep breath, wipes his tears, stands up. . .and starts playing with his train by himself.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?

Did I miss a chapter in Dr. Harvey's nut-town adventures of toddler tantrums?  Have I been living with the Toddler Whisperer this whole time and never knew it?  Maybe there's some mind bending cosmic psycho-ray coming from his finger?

I just stood there.  Quiet.  In awe.  Feeling like I either wanted to slap him silly for not sharing his secret or bottling his tantrum essence and selling it to the seemingly millions of mothers that need help like I do.

I did neither.  He smirked and walked away. 

And I opened the wine.