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Tackling the Terrible Twos

Babies are so utterly helpless, so totally dependent on adult care, it is miraculous that human beings have persisted this long. Only the fact that parents think their offspring are unbelievably cute drives them to provide every last detail necessary for the survival of the infant, from adequate food and shelter to state-of-the-art stuffed animals.

Most people think babies are cute, but nature takes no chances. As a new parent gazes upon the newborn, some gland or another squirts about seven gallons of "Swoon Hormone" into the bloodstream, which drives the devotion level through the roof.

From a survival standpoint, parents eventually need to be jolted out of the Swoon Stage, otherwise, they'll forget to go back to work or take out the garbage and will instead spend every waking hour shooting pictures of the baby and spending the family nest egg on processing.

As usual, nature provides a mechanism, and parents mutter darkly to one another of something called "The Terrible Twos," which is that stage of development when your child begins to recognize and exploit the gaping holes in your moral and ethical fabric. It's also a time when the child no longer needs the same degree of doting care required by a newborn. It's a tough adjustment, but Mother Nature helps out by abruptly shutting off the supply of Swoon Hormone. It's like throwing a switch: One moment you think you're living on a Hallmark card, and the next thing you know you're taking orders from a 26-pound dictator.

Seeking advice, I searched the web for the phrase "terrible twos." The first thing I found was posted to a discussion group by someone named Tracey: "You have to convince him that you are stronger than he is. If he pulls at your arm while you're leading him, immediately turn him firmly in a small circle. Don't allow him to go back where he wants until he is finally walking straight and in control. It might take 10 circles, but hang in there, he will get fed up. If he tries to rear when you're leading, slap him sharply on nose and shout NO!"

This is barbaric, I thought, recoiling in disgust from the computer. I wouldn't train an animal this way! I watched Emma as she hummed to herself and played with some building blocks, and I cringed to think of how some people handle their kids.

I decided to get back online and give this Tracey broad a piece of my mind.

I dashed off a caustic rebuttal and was about to send it when I realized that Tracey's advice was posted in a discussion group for horse trainers. I shut off the computer and settled down to play with Emma. My righteous parental wrath was a false alarm, but I'll be darned if it didn't trigger a little blast of Swoon Hormone.

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© Todd Pinsky 1998-2002. All rights reserved.