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The Douche* Decoder

This blog is dedicated to every woman or man whose responsible for raising a little boy.
Recently I’ve been teaching my son, Pierce, about understanding and communicating his feelings.  His, one flew over the cuckoo’s nest style toddler tantrums had run their course and as emotionally retarted douche’s are my mastermind subject, I  figured there’s no time like the present to help create the world’s first, perfect wee man.  Frankly the universe needs heros not headaches and I’m a giver.
My intervention mission is based on one single question and  began when my main man was screaming and crying at breakfast recently. He genuinely felt justified in his visceral communication style and I observed the pent up anger/frustration/whatever it was, became a self fulfilling prophecy and his emotions, left unattended were getting stronger.   Age 3, an allowance  was permitted as an extensive vocabulary isn’t high up on his Christmas list.   But as his face reddened and the contents of his bear porridge hit the wall I knew the right moment had arrived.  My challenge as his mother and someone who cares for his wellbeing (plus the state of my Farrow and Ball, pigeon coloured walls), was to understand where his tears/anger/frustration were coming from and to decipher exactly what it is he wanted or needed so they would eventually lessen to a point where he may be able to ‘self soothe’  aka Liz Jones. Purveyor of succinct articulation.
Piff, paff, pooph, queue a toddler tantrum intervention moment..
As if by magic at a  tantrum breakout juncture,  I would, Debbie McGee style, mentally rolodex through his little day and get into his ‘zone’.  Is he grumpy because he missed a lie in? Unlikely, he’s ex Gina Ford. Over tired from play dates? More likely sugar sweats from his porridge sprinkles. Overstimulated at nursery? Likely staff problems with his strict no nonsense nanny.  This ain’t rocket science, there are only a few permutations on offer here peeps.
Finally I ask him the killer question, the money shot as we refer to it in TV:
What it is he wants, needs or feels?  
Queue final sequence.
And so we discuss together, or he’s really trying to.  I encourage him to share and explain what he thinks he wants, feels or needs so he can work his challenge through, eventually by himself. Sometimes we discuss using laughter, tickles or cuddles, sometimes diversions such as play and objects and recently we discuss using silence.  Simply by being.  He knows I am there for him whatever he decides he needs, wants or feels and likely he feels reassured by this.  Regardless of visceral tantrums or less these days, bad behavior, we have earned each others trust.  We maintain a mutual respect for each other, based on love.
Is amazing how fabulous a simple life is.  Especially when we care to truly listen and respect what each other needs or wants.
So please try to feel my friends, be visceral and behave like a child as that’s the moral of today’s blog. No one’s born a manipulator, angry or needy.  If your significant other or child behaves in a way we typically deem negative;  feel your way into their zone and ask them a simple single question;
What do you feel/need or want? Then feel love for them through respecting their needs or wants.  You might just provide them with one of the most valuable life lessons:
Life truly is simple when we love.
I hope you all find your true love too.  x
*My delectable Def. of douche = emotionally retarded. Ego filled.  Living in fear and mistrust of the world.
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4 Comments

  1. Ayse

    I have to admit that my son was still crawling and not yet one years old when he started his tantrums. He had a peculiar way of letting out his anger/ frustration/ whatever…. He would simply let moans out, which was perfectly fine, until he head butted the carpeted floor continuously. I got so worried when it became a habit and what seemed to be a permanent big lump growing on his forehead, I had to take him to the GP because I was petrified of him getting some sort of brain damage. The GP did however reassured me that he was perfectly fine and healthy, and would not harm himself more than what his skull and pain threshold would take. Still, I could not understand or communicate with him to stop this behaviour. The “horn” growing from his forehead, and getting bigger, did not give me any comfort either. I WAS TOLD HE WOULD GROW OUT OF IT!! The Horn on his forehead or the head banging??

    It wasn’t until a visit to Cyprus to see family that things really did come to a head…no pun intended!
    You see, in Cyprus there are mostly tiled floors, and when my son took his first bash…. It really was his last, albeit with lots of tears this time round.

    Great blog once again amigo!

    &

    Mucho love xxx

  2. C

    Great insight Melissa. So funny and readable. I want to keep reading, more elaboration say three pages at least. Please write another piece SOON! I cannot wait. Try and send your pieces to a mag. To get published.

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