Discovering Fatherhood

Category: kids wanting things their way

  • Don’t Make Eye Contact!

    File Aug 24, 4 17 55 PM

    Every now and then our daughter will do things that we want her to do without having to tell her. I know it’s shocking to me too. Examples of such things range from eating all the food on her plate, to cleaning up after a coloring session, or simply sitting quietly while playing with her toys. Usually I am thrilled to see that Claire will do these things without us having to say anything. I will stare at her as she chomps away at her food. I will smile proudly as she cleans up her messes. I will gaze in wonder as I see my little girl’s imagination at work while she plays.

    And that’s usually when it all goes down hill. When we make eye contact.

    As I stare at my daughter from across the room she gets the sense that I am looking at her and if our eyes lock it causes her to snap out of her good-behavior-mode. It’s the weirdest thing in the world. Claire will go from well-behaved kid to insane toddler in a matter of seconds. I’m not really sure why my wife or I locking eyes with her can cause Claire to change what she is doing, but we have quickly realized that if we do not want to interrupt her calm, cool and collected moments we cannot make eye contact with her.

    I recently read an article that says that the human mind can actually sense when someone is staring at you—it is quite fascinating. There is a “gaze detection system” in our brain that is responsible for recognizing when someone is staring at you. There are clear benefits to this but when it comes to our toddler we have realized that we do not want to be detected by the said system. When Claire’s “gaze detection system” gets her to lock eyes with us she will stop eating, recognize that she was cleaning up instead of making a mess, or realize that she has been quiet for more than a minute and therefore must do a lap around the house while screaming at the top of her lungs.

    As with most things toddler, there is a balance with how you deal with them. Apparently locking eyes with them is also something that we need to find a sweet spot for. My wife and I will call each other out during dinner if we stare at Claire for too long. “Don’t make eye contact!” will come out of one of our mouths. Quickly we will stare at our plates hoping the “gaze detection system” was not alerted and Claire will continue to eat.

    Never a dull moment with these little ones that is for sure!

  • This Two-Year-Old Knows

    Warning-Terrible-Twos-1024x658

    My daughter is two and she is totally milking it. There are moments when Claire will develop this strange case of selective hearing. Usually the selective hearing occurs when a command is given that requires her to do something, or to stop doing something. Strangely, mom or dad can be steps away from Claire and she wont be able to hear our commands. “Sweetie, pick up your toys. (Pause) Honey, pick them up. (Pause) Claire!” Huh, maybe she got a hearing problem.

    There are times when Claire will become immobile when it is time for her to go to bed. It is curious how her legs will give away during this specific moment. “Hun, did Claire hurt her leg?” “No, why?” says my wife. I respond, “She’s holding it and saying it hurts.” Claire will grow to be a great soccer player some day.

    The strangest of all is the sudden, inexplicable, ravenous hunger that manifests the moment she is climbing into bed for the night. “Papi I need to eat!” “You literally just ate sweetie.” Claire counters with, “Please! Papi. I wannit.” I have learned that this is a last resort tactic to staying up so I don’t fall for it anymore.

    Some will say, “She’s two and doesn’t know any better.” The thing is I think she totally knows what she is doing. I know she’s two, and technically full reasoning isn’t there, she can’t control her emotions, yada, yada, but I’m telling you—she knows. Maybe not completely, but she knows enough.

    The other day Claire was given a 30-minute slot of time to watch Thomas and Friends, when I started calling her to get ready for bath time she looked at me from the corner of her eye and gave this ever so slight sinister smile. I’ve grown accustomed to expect trouble when that smile comes out so I watched her carefully. Claire grabbed the TV remote and hid it under the cushion on the chair across from her and then sat back on the sofa as if nothing had happened.

    She knows!

    How about the time I told her if she finished her food we would go outside and play. Claire complained that she didn’t want to eat. I sternly told her she needed to eat some of the food, “Eat 4 nuggets and we will go out.” I turned around to wash some dishes in the sink and a minute or so later I turned to look at Claire’s progress. The 4 nuggets were gone. I look at Claire who stares back with a look of satisfaction. I think to myself, “there is no way she could have eaten 4 nuggets that fast.” I look over to the left of the dinning room table and Rocky (our dog) gives the plot away. Rocky’s head is hanging low in shame. Claire has figured out that Rocky will consume 4 nuggets in seconds and he is her way to getting outside fast.

    She knows!

    This two year old knows enough to try and get her way. I am convinced of it. When my daughter gets cranky, mean, or wants things her way she will figure out a way to try and make it work to her advantage. Maybe this is why she is trying to lock me out of the house all the time?

    Maybe she knows that I know…

  • The Little Dictator

    baby-fist
    The day begins with breakfast. I have made banana pancakes and they are really good. The little dictator has not had a taste of the pancakes but she yells that this is not what she wants. I try to reason with her but she yells and throws her sippy-cup in protest. I go back to the kitchen and prepare something else. I come back into the dinning room and present my new offering. The little dictator is still not pleased. Apparently she is not in a good mood this morning.

    Breakfast ends and we head over to the little dictators toy area. The little dictator wants to play and so do I, but I have to use the bathroom. This is not acceptable to her. The little dictator screams “play!” I tell her that I will be very quick and the little dictator screams some more and demands that we play now. I head to the bathroom in defiance and the little dictator pounds on the door demanding that I stop this disobedience and that I return to the room to play. I leave the bathroom and proceed to fulfill her demands.

    Playtime starts off pleasant. The little dictator pulls out her blocks and makes a tower. Not more than a few seconds go by and she demolishes the tower. The little dictator smiles ever so slightly and turns her eyes towards me. I am not sure what she is thinking but I wonder if she is trying to send a message.

    The little dictator demands that we now color with her markers. I grant her wish and pull out the drawing pad and markers. The little dictator cannot be limited to such a thing as a drawing pad. Her imagination is much bigger than that. It encompasses the carpet as well. I encourage that she stay on the drawing pad. The little dictator refuses. Markers are taken away and a new rage comes over her. Crying, followed by the usual rant of, “mine! Mine! MINE!”

    Suddenly the little dictator realizes that markers are overrated and that she is hungry once again. I sarcastically point out that we have some great pancakes, but the little dictator is not amused. I think sarcasm is beyond her. The little dictator proceeds to the fridge where she awaits for me to open it and grant her whatever she wishes. Ice cream and mangos are at the top of her list. Ice cream is denied, which causes another rage, but quickly she realizes that mangos are just as good. The mangos have just touched the plate and I hear the little dictator calling out, “Sofia! Sofia!” This is the little dictator’s favorite TV show. She is quite obsessed with it. “Sofia! Sofia!” I finally cave and allow her to watch one episode. There is no sound from her for 22 minutes.

    Bliss.

    The show ends and the little dictator demands that another episode be played. “Sofia! Sofia!” I refuse and a hissy fit ensues. I ignore it and the little dictator proceeds to go play in her room. She calls for me at full force. I go in to see what the little dictator needs and she runs at me full speed and says, “Daddy! Daddy!” She reaches for me and greets me with, “Hi Daddy.” I smile and pick the little dictator up, “hi baby.” I stare into the beautiful bluesih, gray eyes that are before me and smile.

    This is my little dictator. My baby girl.