Angie Kinghorn

The Little Engine That Couldn’t: How to short-circuit a preschooler’s tantrum

Eureka, people.  I found a sure-fire way to make a preschooler so confused she stopped a tantrum.  
I turned it into a grammar lesson.
“I can’t” is A’s new battle cry, and it’s been so bad that Mark went looking for a copy of “The Little Engine That Could” this weekend.  We now have one on order from Amazon.  Until it arrives, we’ve been doing our best to assure A that she can.  
And that works….not at all.  She gets angrier and keeps repeating “I can’t!” until she’s worked herself into a sweaty red-faced tantrumy mess.  And the girl’s got pipes.  
The very second I got the twins into the car after preschool today she revved up for a tantrum of epic proportions.  The subject: she didn’t want to have a nap or quiet time.  Did I mention she was screaming?  And that we were in the car?  And that I was recovering from a two day migraine?
“I can’t, Mommy!” she wailed, over and over.  Each high-pitched syllable was an ice pick to the back of my right eye.  
“You can,” I said.  “We have to think like The Little Engine That Could.  Think positively.  ‘I think I can, I think I can,’” I chanted.  We were hitting every red light the city had to offer, and I was trying to convince myself as much as A.
“No, Mommy, I can’t!”
Positive.  Find the positive.  Where the hell was the positive?  
“A, that … that was a beautiful use of a contraction!” I chirped.
“Wha–?” She stopped, mid-wail.
“A contraction!  It’s what it’s called when you combine two words into one.  You did it perfectly.  You said ‘can’t.’  That’s a contraction of ‘can’ and ‘not.’”
“I can’t do it, Mommy!”
“See, you just did it again!  ‘Can’t.’  That’s short for ‘cannot.’  When you spell it, you put in an apostrophe to stand for the letters you took out.”
“It’s not fair!”
“Oh, another good one!  And you used it perfectly, too!  ‘It’s’ is a contraction of ‘it is.‘  That one trips up a lot of adults, because they try to use it possessively.  But used as a contraction, it is easy, and you just did it!”
“Stop it, Mommy!  I didn’t do it!”
“Fantastic job!  ‘Didn’t’ is the contraction of ‘did not.’  I’m so proud of you!”
“I….what….Mommy!  I can’t do it!”
“Bravo, sweetie!  You’ve mastered ‘can’t.’  You could have said ‘cannot,’ but you’re savvy enough to know how to make that longer word a contraction.”
“Uuugh!”  Our van has this awesome wide angle rear-view mirror, so I saw her throw up her hands in disgust.  G was doing the Wimbledon, swiveling back and forth between Mommy and sister and trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
“This is a very important subject.  All your life, people will judge you on your grammar.  And you know, apostrophes are near and dear to Mommy’s heart.  Mommy would love nothing more than for you to grow up knowing how to use apostrophes correctly.”
“Mommy!  Stop it!  I cannot do it!”
“Of course you can!  Wow!  You are so versatile, honey!  You just did it without the contraction!  Good job!  ‘Cannot’ instead of ‘can’t’!  Wait until your great-grandmother hears about this.  She used to be an English teacher, you know.”
“I can do it, too, Mommy!” G chimed, right as we pulled into the garage.  
“I’m sure you can, honey.”
“I don’t want a nap!  I don’t!”  A shrieked, fully aware that she was losing my attention.
“Who said anything about a nap?  And you did it again!  Two beautiful contractions!  ‘Don’t’ is a contraction of ‘do not.’  We spell it ‘d-o-n-apostrophe-t.’”
I kept right on with the grammar lesson, calmly lecturing as I unstrapped the twins from their car seats and herded everybody to the door.  
“Mommy!  You’re not listening to me!”  A actually stomped her foot.  The thing is, I’m pretty sure she no longer had any idea what she was upset about.
“Good girl!  That’s another contraction!  Can you tell me what ‘you’re’ is short for?”
“G won’t stop talking!  I need you to listen to me!”  (G was not, in fact, talking.  G was watching this spectacle like it was WWE RAW.)
“Wow!  We hadn’t even gotten through ‘you’re’ and you used another contraction!  ‘Won’t’ is very useful.  Do you know what it’s short for?”
My refusal to get upset and engage in her tantrum turned A’s world upside down.  I chattered grammar stuff in a calm voice as I got both kids ready for either a nap or quiet time (their choice).  I tucked G in, and he said, “I’m going to have a nap, Mommy.  Was that a good contraction?”
“Yes, sweetie.  That was beautiful.”
Ta-dah!  One down.
A was gearing up for her tantrum finale in the bathroom.  “I can’t brush my teeth!”
“Great!”  I said, taking the toothbrush from her.  “And we’ve learned that ‘can’t’ is short for….”  I waited, expectantly.
She spat and rolled her eyes.  “Cannot.”
“That’s my smart girl!  Can you tell me what contraction Mommy just used in that sentence?”
Before she knew what was happening, A found herself tucked into bed.  She looked positively gobsmacked.
“But Mommy, I don’t want a nap!” she yelled as I closed her door.
“Good contraction!  You used ‘don’t’ again!  And you do need a nap.  Goodnight.”  I closed the door and waited outside.
“I can’t!  I can’t take a nap!  I can’t!”
I went back into her room, still calm.  “Now let’s think positively and use the inverse.  ‘I can!  I can take a nap!’”
“But Mommy, I can’t!”
“Oh, yes you can.  You are a strong willed child.  You can do anything you put your mind to.”
And y’all?  She took a two hour nap.
When I opened her door, she greeted me with a huge grin.  “I did it!  I can did it!”
Next up?  Subject/verb agreement.

Comments

  1. You're a parenting goddess. I'm trying this the next time Big G has a meltdown. Odds are it'll just piss him off, but what difference will it make?

    ~ jenndola

  4. That was fantastic!! I've always ever said I'm sorry you feel that way. Next time one of my three has a meltdown I'm gonna find the positive! To date the most clever thing I've ever said was I'm okay with that in response to I Hate You Mommy! What you had was a stroke of genius!

  11. Oh Angie, this is great. Just great. You have hit on a piece of truly inspired genius. Maybe that migraine was some kind of cellular reproduction in your brain. 'Cause this is effing brilliant.

  12. LOVE this! I've never gone the contraction way, but other methods of completely ignoring the tantrum at hand and speaking calmly (when I have the presence of mind to do so) has derailed many a meltdown.

    My biggest issue is when my son does it, all words turn into mumble soup, I can't make out a contraction to save my life.

    LOVE this tale, and she learned something too!

  16. Oh my goodness that was hilarious! I was in stitches by the time I got to the end of your story! Not only are you a clever parent, you are a fantastic story teller! LOVE this post! 😀

  21. Oh my….as an English Major, this just made my skirt fly up. You're a mama genius. Yes, I use a contraction. I'm a genius too.

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