Forget the terrible twos, my daughter was a feisty four-year-old when she became a champ at the 20-minute emotional fit.
Yup – the 20-minute fit.
These were no ordinary temper tantrums to get what she wanted at the grocery store.
Instead, it became obvious that these emotional rollercoaster rides were her way of coping with the frustrating challenges and steep learning curves that seemed to arrive with astonishing regularity.
She’d rev up slowly, then go to deep, loud sobs that could rise up and down for 20 minutes before she’d tire herself out. Just as quickly as it started, it would be over and she’d begin to hum.
Me? I was a puddle on the floor.
Don’t get me wrong. I tried to stop the tantrums. Before the frustrations got to big, I’d tie the shoes, or decipher a new word for her. I’d suggest how to draw a cow, or mend a friendship. Nothing worked. She didn’t want me to fix anything.
I was at a loss. Finally, I stopped trying to rescue her, probably because I was exhausted and didn’t have a clue what to do. Instead, we’d sit together until her cries finally subsided.
“Do you feel better,” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
Eventually, as she revved up for another fit, I blurted out a question.
“What are your feelings under all that anger?”
“My underfeelings are sad,” she yelled.
Sometimes her underfeelings were frustrated, or confused, or just plain mad. Suddenly, it was OK that she felt those big emotions because we both knew she was going to be just fine when the ride was over.
That may seem like a small thing. But she gave herself – and me – a gift when she realized that the even when the world is impossibly hard you are going to make through.
Emotional resilience they call it.
I had no idea that I was helping her become an adult with built-in faith she could bounce back from challenges. I was just exhausted by watching her emote so loud I had to plug my ears.
Last week, she called me from across the country. I could hear the tears in her now-adult voice and I settled in for 20 minutes while she worked through some dilemma or another. We still joke about our underfeelings, but naming those powerful emotions still and act as a kind of shorthand to the courage it takes to get through the tough stuff.
About 20 minutes into that phone call, I heard her voice change, right on queue. She mentioned the sunshine outside. I swear I heard her to hum.
I found out about my preschooler’s emotional resilience because she never gave me any choice. You can find out with the help of many resources in our community, including the Ridge Meadows Early Childhood Development Committee.
Lynn Easton writes for
the Ridge Meadows
Early Childhood
Development Committee.